


it's a kind of magic

by nirky



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/F, Fluff, Shaw/Food OTP, all of the Hogwarts tropes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-03-13 20:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3395708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nirky/pseuds/nirky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sameen Shaw just wanted to finish her time at Hogwarts in peace so she could move on with her life. She really didn't need a secretive, annoying and annoyingly attractive girl interfering with her plans.</p><p>Root, however, welcomes the distraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: the one with the slightly melodramatic introductions (that prove they’re perfect for each other)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedorkone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedorkone/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of an adventurous romantic comedy set in Hogwarts. I was aiming for pure fluff, but I seem to be unable to write long fic without a plot, so this happened.
> 
> Many thanks to phoenix-91 for the beta. And well, thedorkone throwing Hogwarts headcanons for Root and Shaw at me is the reason this story exists.

Samantha Groves was not raised to believe in magic.

She had grown up an only child in a small town, daughter to a sick mother abandoned by her father. When reality was so harsh, there was no time for such frivolities as dreams and magic.

No.

Samantha Groves did not believe in magical solutions and had no time for naive hopes. She believed in herself, in her body’s ability to perform tasks and, above all else, she believed in the power of her mind.

From a very young age, Samantha focused on improving and achieving, always trying to outdo herself in everything she did. She had no thoughts to spare to most people so she mostly competed with herself. Even at home, despite being the child, she had to be the responsible one; she was the caretaker of her little family unit of two. Like a proper Cinderella, she would cook and tidy up the house, she would tend to her mother’s every need and whim. She bought groceries and booked doctors’ appointments. She was an ambitious adult trapped in the limitations of a faux-innocent body.

Samantha didn’t mind. There weren’t many people she loved – in fact, there were only two – but she loved her mother. It seemed fair to her that she would look after the woman who had given her the gift of life. For the moment, at least.

She was content with her situation, with all the books she had to read and all the afternoons spent exploring the computers in the library. Samantha enjoyed machines. All of them. Computers, televisions, calculators. She appreciated the cleanliness, the clarity of function and of design. She appreciated their simplicity most of all.

You see, Samantha didn’t have much to her external life, but her brain? Her brain would never stop working, always with a plan or an idea, always with an improvement to be added to her routine. She didn’t care for dreaming because she didn’t have dreams; she had certainties. She would become someone with means and possessions, she would move out of the middle of nowhere and get her mother the best care, she would know the world and _conquer it_.

 

Samantha’s certainties were probably the reason why, in all the history of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she was the only person who wasn’t exhilarated when she received her letter of acceptance.

*

Samantha recognized the man right away. She had read _Harry Potter_ but, as was the case with every child whose feet were firmly planted on the ground, she took it as creative fancy. A good way to pass the time and exercise the mind – she liked mapping out the castle and coming up with optional codes and passwords for the passageways. The great fight between Good and Evil, however, was not to her liking.

“You are Hagrid, right?” she asked, fingers whitening on the doorknob.

“Yeh know me?” He looked puzzled, holding an ugly hat to his chest with his big hands. He was different than she’d imagined, bulkier and shorter, but his eyes were kind and displayed his nervousness.

(later in life, when she was no longer Samantha Groves, she would have found that a weakness to be explored. but not yet.)

Samantha did know him, and apparently all the other characters that had appeared in the four books released so far. It was surprising Hagrid had not gotten used to being recognized but then again, maybe coming to get muggleborns was not something he did that often. Which begged the question of _why_ exactly he was the one picking up Samantha, of all children. Or perhaps wizards remained so self-centric they hadn’t even realized a world famous book series was spilling out all their secrets.

The night was clear, stars sprinkling the sky here and there, and Samantha peeked behind him to find the famous motorbike parked by her fence. It was late August and it was not her birthday, even though she had indeed turned 11 that year.

“I’m Sam,” she said, bobbing her chin from left to right. “I don’t know how this works.”

“Let me talk to yer mom.”

She let him pass but didn’t follow. Instead, she went upstairs and packed and wondered how her mom could possibly afford a Hogwarts education. Then she sat on her bed and thought of Hanna, who would be hurt about being left behind without an explanation or a single word of goodbye.

(she didn’t like it when Hanna was sad, it made her chest tight and she didn’t know what to do with it.)

It was a curious thing, how Samantha Groves had spent her life not believing in magic but that hadn’t stopped magic from finding her anyway.

*

When Hagrid parked the motorbike by Gringotts, Sam visualized a future of student debt. She had a vision for her life and that life did not include owing money to anybody.

“I don’t have any money,” she told Hagrid, her nails digging into the backpack resting on her legs. “Unless we can turn my money into magic money?”

“Yer father left yeh enough to pay for everything, Sam, don’ worry. We’ll take what we need for now.”

Father? All Sam knew about her father was that he had gotten her mother pregnant and had never been seen again. With hesitant, careful steps, she walked beside him and into the bank. “My… my father?”

“Yes,” he answered excitedly, as if this was some grand source of joy and not the biggest shock of Sam’s short life. “Yer father is a wizard!”

Is? She had gone from a fatherless, magicless girl to a witch with two parents? All in a few hours?

Sam felt like she had been punched, and her heart started beating so loudly she thought she would die right there and then. She was so scared she reached for Hagrid, uncharacteristically so, and she held on to his sleeve, looking up at him with teary eyes he either didn’t notice or didn’t understand, “My father… is alive?”

She had told herself he wasn’t. It was easier that way.

“Of course he’s alive!” Hagrid said, all enthusiasm and obliviousness. “He’s a very busy wizard.”

Sam gulped and took a very deep breath. She thought of her mother and of what they had both built for themselves. She thought of an absence she had seldom felt and she would’ve preferred to be left untouched. She thought of all the certainties she wasn’t sure she still had.

Letting go of Hagrid’s sleeve, Samantha Groves clenched and unclenched her fists, took another deep breath and decided to pretend none of this was of importance.

“Hagrid?”

“Yes?”

“Could you make sure that all the money left after school is paid goes to take care of my mother?”

(later, as an adult, Sam would track down her father and that meeting would not end well. but that is another story and shall be told another time)

*

Gringotts had more money than Sam had ever seen and Diagon Alley had been the first time Sam had felt excited about having magic. Maybe she could use it to her advantage, she had thought, maybe she could be better, maybe she could be _more_ in both worlds.

The Hogwarts Express hadn’t brought Sam a wide range of emotions as it rode through the countryside. It was just a boring train with loud kids and she was stuck in a coach, dreading the life she now had ahead of her.

When they arrived at the castle, the night had already fallen and Sam scrunched her nose at the dark and ominous aura of the place, rolling her eyes at the atmosphere of excitement around her. It was draining for she had no part in it.

They were all ushered into the Great Hall to sit around huge rectangular tables and Sam walked to the front without hesitation. She knew what was about to happen and she wanted to study it carefully.

It took a long time for everyone to settle down and Sam had to admit that there was a singular beauty to how the ceiling reflected the night sky even though she was quite uncomfortable with all the candles floating around. Were magic places immune to fires?

Her musings were interrupted by a deep voice singing about the Hogwarts Houses and what kind of people they welcomed, the rhymes a bit awkward and not quite matching in melody. Sam found it all very intriguing and she watched with curiosity as first-years sat on the stool to be sorted, one after the other.

When her turn came to be analyzed by the Sorting Hat, Sam realized she could learn many things, but she would never trust or even _like_ magic. The Hat never even touched her. It was about to be dropped on her head when it shouted “ _Slytherin!_ ” and Sam was shooed away from the stool.

She didn’t care about any of the Houses in particular. She had even wondered, while reading the books, where she would be sorted. But being there, witnessing the ceremony and being a part of it, she was taken by a wave of contempt that she couldn’t shake away.

An enchanted object had somehow barely sniffed her hair and made a judgment to last her for her entire run at the school. The wizarding world had deemed it acceptable that a Hat – a _hat_ of all things – would read 11 year-olds’ minds and place them in neatly packed personality boxes.

Sam was many things, but someone who respected authority that didn’t give her reasons to be respected, she was not.

She would be her own person and make her own name.

She would make Hogwarts feel like there was a need for a fifth house.

*

That was how, in September 2001, Samantha Groves started her time at Hogwarts.

 

* * *

 

The little magic Sameen Shaw had in her life died along with her father.

He was the one who took the time to play with her and tell her stories. He would create these great scenarios with Legos and then make a different voice for each of the mini-figures, a grand ploy of tragedy and heroism. Sameen just sat in front of him, listening to him talk, and she would build the houses and the spaceships of his tales. Sometimes – very rarely –, she would like one of the characters he invented and only then would she interfere in her father’s stories.

Sameen was not a very imaginative child, but she enjoyed the little sparks of enchantment her father brought into their interactions.

His death, however, she didn’t remember well. It was all very blurry in her memory even if it hadn’t happened that long ago. She was in the car, her father singing to a Johnny Cash tune (he was his favorite), and then there was a loud crash noise and she had gotten those weird twirling feelings you get in your stomach when you go on a rollercoaster. Shortly after, a nice ambulance man had saved her but he couldn’t save her father.

She had felt an unknown emptiness inside, as if all her organs had jumped out and found themselves a new home. It was as if she was looking at herself from the outside and Sameen didn’t like that sensation at all.

And so she had asked for food and the nice ambulance man had brought her a sandwich.

(that sandwich still haunts Shaw’s taste buds.)

It had filled her with relief and warmth, and made her feel like her body still worked. It had made her feel normal again.

That day was the day Sameen Shaw discovered you could always trust food, even when you couldn’t trust anything else.

That sandwich marked the start of Sameen Shaw’s lifelong love affair with food and proved to her that there was comfort to be found even in the darkest of times.

*

The day Sameen got accepted into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, there was a knock on the door of the house where she lived with her mother, so polite she didn’t even hear it. But her mom did, and she got off the couch to answer it.

There was a mix of angry whispers and annoyed shouting but Sameen was not one to eavesdrop. She didn’t realize the relevance of what was happening until her mother returned to the living room, a skinny lady with thick glasses in tow.

“Sameen,” her mother said, a frown on her forehead and angry lines around her mouth. “I have something to tell you.”

 

Sameen had listened attentively, following her mother’s many words with a stoic expression. Maybe she should have been excited or scared, after all this house and this town were all she’d known since her father’s death. And magic was _real_.

But no.

Sameen Shaw didn’t want to be a witch. She wanted to become a doctor and save people, like the ambulance man did for her and her father had done for his country. She didn’t have a choice in the matter though. Not at that time.

 All wizards and witches must learn to control their magic before they’re allowed out in the world to do what they want with their lives.

This had to be the stupidest thing that had ever happened to her.

*

Sameen tried really, really hard not to be impressed by anything as the skinny lady dragged her from one place to the other, but that proved kind of difficult. She had never seen a building as massive as that wizard bank and then the shopping street had flying objects and people dressed in silly colorful robes and _owls_ and maybe this whole magic thing was not as bad as it seemed.

That wizard train had way too many people in too small a place though, and Sameen withdrew to the quietest seating area she could find.

After that, the Sorting Hat Ceremony was the first time she managed to express some mild interest again, but that might have been due to the fact that they were supposed to start eating after being sorted into one of the Houses.

She patiently awaited her turn and, when it came, she sat on the stool with her back straight and her arms crossed over her chest.

Sameen was expecting the Hat to shout something right away but instead she was presented with a silence that stretched on and on until she was beginning to feel uneasy.

“ _So?_ ” she thought, really loud and despondent to make sure whatever magic possessing the Hat was capable of hearing her. “ _Get on with it._ ”

She heard a deep chuckle inside her head and that was way scarier than she would ever admit.

“ _Patience, Sameen._ ”

“ _Call me Shaw,_ ” was her automatic response. “ _Please,_ ” she added as an afterthought, imagining her mother’s reprimand.

The Hat hummed in agreement but said nothing more.

“ _What’s taking you so long?_ ”

“ _I could place you in any of the Houses, little girl._ ”

Shaw gritted her teeth. She hated being called that.

“ _Then what are you waiting for?_ ”

“ _I could place you in_ any _of the Houses,_ ” the Hat repeated, echoing in her brain. “ _Do you have any preference?_ ”

“ _Not really._ ” She shrugged, grabbing the round edges of the stool with both hands. “ _No, wait._ ”

“ _Yes?_ ”

“ _Is there a House that uh, gets to eat more?_ ”

“ _What do you mean, ‘eat more’?_ ”

“ _I dunno,_ ” Shaw mumbled, and it was weird, how she was mumbling in her head the exact same way she would do with her voice. “ _Is there a House that is famous for liking food more or something like that?_ ”

The Hat laughed and laughed in her mind and Shaw had to make a monumental effort not to throw it across the room after it shouted “ _Hufflepuff!_ ”

*

That was how, in September 2003, Sameen Shaw started her seven years at Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I experimented a little with an omniscient narrator for the prologue, since I wanted to set the groundwork for the story. The rest of the fic will be in 3rd person POV for both Root and Shaw though. :) Thanks for reading!


	2. the one with the meet-cutes (that are really not that cute, if you ask Shaw)

The first time it happens, Sameen Shaw thinks nothing of it. Sure, the only reason she’d gotten the damn cat in her third year was because the guy at Magical Menagerie had told her she was the first person _ever_ the cat hadn’t hissed at and for the longest time that remained the truth. Not even the girls sharing her room, who were around the cat every single day, dared to approach him and that suited Shaw just fine. She had named him Cat and was quite content to snuggle with him during the night and not see him for the rest of the day. Cat seemed equally satisfied with their arrangement.

That is, until she gets to her dorm late after a night of studying only to find her bed empty. It’s the first time this happens in the two years she’s had the cat and the school year has barely started. For a moment, she considers ignoring him and just going to sleep. She’s way too tired to waste precious minutes of rest searching for a stupid pet. He’s lucky he’s pretty much her favorite thing in the whole school or she wouldn’t have spared him a second thought.

She leaves the Hufflepuff Basement and doesn’t need to walk for long until she finds a girl with wavy brown hair sitting on the floor next to the kitchens, Cat purring on her lap.

 _The traitor_.

Shaw snatches the cat from the girl’s lap and glares at her. She’s about to snap at Cat but she’ll be caught dead before she actually speaks to an animal with a witness present.

“Good evening to you too,” the girl greets with a smirk, standing up.

Shaw narrows her eyes and looks her up and down, annoyed that the girl towers over her. She is not a Hufflepuff and she doesn’t play in any of the Quidditch teams, so she isn’t on Shaw’s radar. Shaw would rather keep it that way.

“I don’t want to see you near my cat again,” she snarls.

“He was the one that came to me, you know?”

Shaw ignores the smug grin, memorizes the girl’s face for when a well-placed punch might come in handy, and turns to leave.

 

* * *

 

The second time it happens, Shaw frowns for so long one would think that’s just her face. Which, in all fairness, is not far from the truth.

She’s already lying under her covers, one minute away from falling asleep and with Cat nestling on the spot between her neck and her shoulder, when they hear a noise outside the room. Normally Shaw would just carry on pretending it’s nothing – she lives in a magical castle after all –, but Cat jumps out of bed and starts scratching at the dorm’s door, making whiny meowing sounds that are awfully like pleading and _there is no way_ Shaw owns a cat that produces such undignified noises.

She gets up and opens the door a crack, only to see Cat sneaking out at the speed of light. Shaw is too curious to return to bed now so she follows him out, the cold floor beneath her bare feet bringing goosebumps upon her skin.

She’s about to enter the hallway that leads to the kitchens when she hears a familiar sickly sweet voice, “Hey, cat.” There is an _oomph_ sound and then a purr and the girl speaks once more, “Nice to see you again.”

Shaw turns the corner and there is her double-crossing pet, all cuddled in the girl’s arms as if he were a baby. She harrumphs and places her hands on her hips, “I told you to stay away from my cat.”

The girl startles, to Shaw’s great pleasure, but then the smug grin from last time makes an appearance. “Oh. It’s you.”

“How do you know his name anyway?”

The girl furrows her brows, looking from Shaw to the cat in her arms. “His name? Wait.” She shakes her head and Shaw notices that she’s not the ugliest girl in the world. “You mean his name is _Cat_?”

“Well, yeah,” Shaw says, scratching the nape of her neck. “What did you expect me to call him? Crookshanks?”

“That would be the most obvious choice.” The girl tilts her head and smirks, petting the cat absentmindedly. “Well, the _second_ most obvious choice.”

She scrunches her nose as she finishes the sentence and Shaw glowers at her, taking a few short strides to grab Cat and clutch him to her chest. “If I see you here again after curfew, I’m telling my Head of House.”

“Can’t a girl have a healthy appetite?”

“You’re not here for food.” Shaw rolls her eyes, swallowing the hiss of pain as Cat digs his claws into her forearm. “You don’t strike me as the type.”

“How observant of you,” the girl mocks, taking a step forward. “Can you tell me your name?”

Shaw purses her lips in her best impression of a fake smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The girl chuckles and does a little taunting wave that makes Shaw seethe. But there’s no point in starting a fight so she just spins around and walks back to her dorm.

 

* * *

 

The third time it happens, Shaw decides bothering about it is a waste of time.

She can’t claim she’s a model student, not when the reason she finds the girl this time is because she’s returning from the kitchens after a midnight snack. Hell, she’s still munching on a piece of cake and there are crumbs on her hair and on her shirt so it’s not like she could pretend she was doing something even remotely allowed. Not that the girl cares either way.

Shaw sees Cat first, crawling up and down the corridor in the hunt for a little red light. A few feet ahead she spots the girl, sitting on the floor and drawing patterns on the wall with her wand for the cat to follow.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Got any more of that cake?” the girl asks, standing up and leaning on the wall with one shoulder. Shaw is not sure if she’s comfortable with the way she’s staring at her.

“Sure,” Shaw scoffs. “I always steal extra cake so I can feed annoying students who are weirdly obsessed with the Hufflepuff quarters. I’m the Mother Theresa of Hogwarts.”

The girl laughs at that and mouths something to turn off the light from her wand. “I know who you are now.”

“You do, huh?” Shaw crosses her arms, one eyebrow lifted in challenge.

“You’re the Grumpy Puff.” She cocks her head, a lazy smile on her face. “Sameen Shaw, right?”

“Wow,” Shaw says, with an eye-roll. She contemplates clapping for extra snarky effect, but figures it isn’t worth the effort. “Impressive detective skills.”

“You are not impressed?” She sounds surprised and Shaw has no idea why.

“Impressed with what? You’ve seen me getting inside the Hufflepuff Basement. _Twice._ ” She taps her forearm with her fingertips. It’s no secret that she has a very low tolerance level for aggravations. “That reduces your student pool to one quarter. Considering I’m a girl, make it about one eighth. You probably guessed my age to be between 14 and 16, you know my cat and you know I sleep in black. All you had to do was question the right people.”

“Maybe I should be the one who’s impressed,” the girl concedes, and there’s a hint of something other than amusement in her eyes. “They did say you’re the best student in your year.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, enough about me already.” Shaw lowers her arms, clenching and unclenching her fists. Something about this girl makes the blood pump harder in her veins. “Who are you?”

The girl pushes off the wall and gets uncomfortably closer, her face inches away from Shaw’s. It’s disconcerting and she smells like apples and Shaw absolutely loathes invasions of her personal space, but she’s not about to be intimidated. The girl’s smile grows wider when Shaw doesn’t move and she leans in, whispers right in her ear, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Then she walks past Shaw without looking back, as silent and stealthy as an owl. Shaw is almost tempted to rise to the challenge and turn her into a hobby, learn about her and hate her, but that would imply she’s somewhat _invested_ and nope, she’s not doing that to herself.

With a huff, she ushers Cat back into the Basement, forever mad at him for dragging her into this. Cat was supposed to only like her and now he’s enjoying someone else’s attention.

Shaw doesn’t like sharing but if the alternative is dealing with the insufferable girl, she can learn to live with that.

 

* * *

 

Shaw expects many things from her Quidditch practice. The Ravenclaw jerks interrupting the Hufflepuff practice time because there’s some scholar emergency to tend to, for example. Or the odd day when the Gryffindors are inspired and beat their asses in the trial games. Or the boring days when the Hufflepuff practice alone, instead of with another team.

Being distracted by the after-hours-mystery-girl, however, is none of those things.

Shaw is busy enjoying herself by throwing the Bludgers at John’s head when she notices a familiar tiny red light jumping from one robe to the other and her eyes immediately go to the nearest stand. She can’t see much since there’s an irritatingly thin rain falling on them but she spots wavy brown hair and that’s enough to ruin her concentration for the whole thing.

John is quick to make use of her break in focus and sends a Bludger her way. Shaw is so flustered that the ball hits her on the arm before she manages to send it away with her bat.

“I am going to murder you, John,” she threatens, flying past him in the chase for the other Bludger.

“Sure, Shaw,” he replies, in his deep voice that makes her grit her teeth when they’re playing against each other. Which is pretty much every single time they play together. “I would like to see you try.”

She prevents the ball from hitting Alicia, their Chaser, and Hufflepuff scores ten points.

“What were you saying, John?” she yells across the pitch.

It really is unfortunate that Walter Dang, Gryffindor’s sneaky half-sized specimen of a Seeker that Shaw absolutely despises, chooses that moment to catch the Snitch.

“What were _you_ saying, Shaw?” John shoots back, hovering next to her on his broomstick with a cocky grin that she wants to punch off his face.

She can’t believe a rule as absurd as the Snitch being worth 150 points, and thus rendering the efforts of most team players during a game pointless, hasn’t been changed yet.

This is utterly unfair and she needs a rematch _right now_.

“Practice over!” Joss Carter shouts, and all the Gryffindors gather around her.

Shaw isn’t ready to stop playing, not with the bitter taste of defeat this fresh on her tongue, and for a moment she stares wistfully at Carter, half-enchanted with the firm way she is pointing the flaws in her team’s game (and not-so-secretly rejoicing due to how she’s scolding John for being more worried about annoying Shaw than about doing his job).

“Hey, Grumpcake,” Fusco calls her, pointing at the space where their team is gathering around Scarface. “Stop ogling Carter. Let’s be done with this so we can all go take a shower.”

Shaw gives Fusco the finger but flies after him to where their captain is already talking.

It’s not that Shaw doesn’t like Scarface, because she does. Or as much as she can like someone, anyway. She appreciates his quietness and his solid presence, but the guy is more of a follower than a leader, and that is putting a damper on Hufflepuff’s chances of winning the Quidditch Cup. They’re lucky Daizo is one hell of a Keeper, which means that most teams’ only score against them is managed by catching the Snitch – if they ever do manage to catch it.

Though, if Shaw is being honest, everyone in the team is pretty great at Quidditch and they have a very good chance of winning the Cup this year.

(okay, maybe she just wishes Joss Carter was her Captain. who cares?)

Scarface offers a few lines of criticism and advice, in that simple, blunt way of his, and the team nods in agreement. Except Shaw. Shaw sort of grunts in acknowledgement and Scarface shoots her a stern look.

When they land, Shaw is greeted by the sight of the girl, _again_ , and this time she has the nerve to wink at Shaw. She’s at the edge of the pitch, two boys by her side. Shaw knows one of them – he’s a Chaser in the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and a good one at that. What business could he have with _her_?

Shaw quickens her pace to catch up with the Gryffindors; if she is to find out who the girl is without rousing too much suspicion, now is the time. Gryffindor is, in theory, her least favorite House, what with the arrogant boastful idiots it embraces left and right, but if there is anyone at Hogwarts she can call friends, it’s John and Carter. Fusco doesn’t count, and he’s Hufflepuff anyway.

“Hey,” she calls, slowing down when she reaches their midst.

“Good game, Shaw,” John mocks, his broomstick hanging unbalanced from his shoulder.

“Yeah right,” she huffs, rolling her eyes. “Look, do any of you know that girl?” She tries to be discreet when pointing at her, but the Gryffindors sure aren’t discreet when they all turn at the same time to follow the direction of her finger.

“Who, Root?” Fusco asks, confused.

“Root?” Shaw scoffs, glaring at him for joining them. “What kind of a name is that?”

“Name is Samantha Groves, actually,” Carter informs, frowning and looking ahead again. “She just goes by Root, has done so since second year.”

“What happened in second year?” Fusco asks, saving Shaw the trouble.

John shrugs. “No one knows.”

“So she’s in your year?”

“She’s a seventh year, yeah,” Carter says, using the broomstick as a walking stick. Shaw has to control herself not to snort at that. “She’s my partner in Potions.”

“Is she a Gryffindor then?”

“That one?” Fusco splutters, eyebrows shooting up to his forehead. “That one got sorted into Slytherin before the Hat even touched her hair.”

“Hum,” Shaw offers, somewhat disconcerted. “Okay.”

“Why do you ask?” Carter queries, watching her with that expression she gets when she knows something is more than meets the eye.

“I keep bumping into her after curfew and I’d never seen her before,” Shaw relents. Carter is too perceptive for any other option. “I just wanted to know.”

“Stay away from her, Shaw,” John warns, with a grave tone that makes Shaw pay attention against her will. “She’s bad news.”

“Yeah, Shaw,” Carter agrees, which is worrisome in itself. “Nothing good can come from there.”

Shaw nods, before throwing one final glance at the girl and walking with them to the lockers.

_Root._

The name has a dangerous edge to it that Shaw finds intriguing. She hadn’t been curious before, but now she definitely is.

 

* * *

 

It’s late. It’s so so late Shaw is pretty certain even the ghosts have retired to wherever it is they go when they don’t have students to terrorize.

She curses under her breath, clutching the strap of her backpack to her shoulder. Finding a hidden passage in the library that leads to a private studio hadn’t been the best thing to happen to her sleeping pattern but hell if she isn’t positively ecstatic about the silence and the _privacy_.

Whoever had cursed her with magic that can only be tamed through years of boarding school deserves to go through all circles of hell and come out of that unredeemed and ready to go through them again. Or very dead. Shaw isn’t picky.

Going down the steps two at a time, she passes the entrance to the Hufflepuff Basement and runs to the portrait of the fruit bowl, tickling the pear until the painting turns into a door, a scowl never leaving her face. She can’t believe how ridiculous this castle is.

The fact that no house elves can be seen anywhere and she is forced to use her wand to turn on the lights further proves how unreasonably late it is and so she just helps herself to a slice of bread, which she spreads with an unnecessary amount of peanut butter by anyone else’s standards, before rushing out and heading to the dorms.

As soon as she’s getting near the stack of barrels that lead to the Basement, she starts hearing voices and she stops in her tracks, her heart beating a little faster. Glancing around, she spots the suit of armor and uses it to shield her body from view. The words that get to her are muffled and she can’t understand what the people are saying, but she can distinguish a female voice chattering away to monosyllabic male responses and she rolls her eyes, trying to focus on their steps.

When she realizes they’re moving in the opposite direction to her hiding spot, Shaw goes back to the corridor.

Unfortunately for her, she hadn’t given herself enough time for the other rule-breakers to disappear from view and she sees them still walking towards the corner.

Her automatic reaction is to narrow her eyes and groan.

The annoying girl is walking side by side with a black-haired boy that seems familiar to Shaw, her arm around his shoulders.

She is… impressively tall, Shaw notices, or maybe the guy is just short.

Which he kind of is, now that Shaw is studying him and can finally recognize him. That boy is Daizo, the Keeper from _her_ Quidditch team, and she grits her teeth in irritation. What Root could possibly need with a fourth year Hufflepuff is beyond her comprehension skills. Not that she would want to know or anything.

It takes another moment for them to be out of sight and Shaw feels a pang of _something_ tugging at the back of her mind. She pushes it down and soon she’s forgotten all about it, nestling on her bed with Cat purring by her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, all of my heart goes to PhoenixTat for the beta.


	3. the one with the technical complications (that lead to somewhat pleasant encounters)

Root is sitting on the windowsill of her dorm room, wand hanging idly from her fingers. She looks at the dark clouds outside the castle and sighs before turning to focus on the lamp on her bedside table. With a flick of her wand, she turns it into a rotary dial telephone. With another, she turns it back into a lamp.

Magic would be a lot more fascinating if it weren’t so _easy_.

She flips through her _A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration_ copy and enounces a few sentences aloud, her tone derisive and drawling, and watches with mild interest as her quill transposes the words to the parchment on her desk.

How primitive.

Standing up, Root moves to grab her essay on the _Principles of Conjuration_ and starts reviewing it. It’s not excellent but it will do and she can work on the conclusion later. She’s already mastered the simpler Conjuration spells and they’re not even practicing them in class yet.

Her homework planner lets her know that she’s done with all her tasks for the day, which means she has an afternoon of free time ahead of her. She scrambles through her bag until she finds her map – a yellowed piece of paper that only has a few scribbles on it – and touches it with the tip of her wand, whispering, “ _I know where I am and where I’m headed_ ”.

The map widens in size and the scribbles turn into a detailed plan view of the castle, allowing her to see all the rooms she had discovered so far in the building, as well as the location of everyone inside.

Let no one ever say that reading the _Harry Potter_ series had been completely useless to Root.

Daizo is still in a Charms class, Jason is in Herbology and Daniel is in Arithmancy. Aligning herself with muggleborns of Houses and years different from hers comes with its own brand of challenges, many of which include conflicting schedules. But they are good boys and Root doesn’t mind waiting until they’re done with their classes for the day.

She scans the map once more, trying to come up with a plan to occupy her time and that’s when she sees the name.

_Sameen Shaw._

Alone in a corner of the library.

Root smirks, and blows at the map until the ink vanishes and what’s left is the original yellowed paper.

She knows what she will be doing until her boys are available.

*****

Root walks into the library as if she owns it and then slows down to a quiet stroll, trying to remember the surroundings of the spot where she knows she will find Sameen. Or Shaw. The other girl seems to prefer to be addressed that way, at least that’s what she’s been told.

She turns a corner and looks through a bookcase. There is Shaw, occupying an entire study group table by herself. The pile of books is so vast Root is quite certain even Hermione Granger would be impressed.

(Root _really_ likes Hermione Granger. it’s the one person in the wizarding world she’d like to meet. she likes Professor McGonagall too, but that had sort of lost its appeal after all the times she’d been called to the Headmistress’s office.)

She paces the corridors trying to find a spot where she can watch Shaw without being seen and finally settles for sitting on the floor, back leaning against a shelf. She’s not quite hidden, but it’s unlikely Shaw will look her way and for now that is her best option.

She pulls out a parchment and splits it into six pieces, muttering a spell as she touches each of them with her wand. Then she writes down a short message on the first one with her quill and looks up, smiling to herself when a duplicate parchment appears from thin air and floats down until it lands on top of the book Shaw is reading. All it says is “ _Hi Shaw_ ”, and Shaw stares at it as if it’s a message from Voldemort himself before creasing it in her fist with excessive force and throwing it into the nearest bin.

Root writes a message on another piece and watches as again a copy falls in front of Shaw.

This time, Shaw glances around, a frown contorting her features, and Root finds it very hard to control her laughter. She feels the parchment hot on her fingers and looks down to a few words in a handwriting that is decidedly not her own.

Root beams at the parchment. She very much appreciates a smart girl.

She’s not even sure if she knows this John, though if she had to guess, she’d say it’s that big idiotic lug in the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Root sits still for a few minutes, enjoying the way Shaw appears to be refocusing now that all the duplicates are gone. It’s interesting that she’d used the quill resting in the ink bottle to write to her and yet she’s writing not on a parchment, but on a _notebook_ , and she’s using a ballpoint pen – a simple Bic pen like the ones she keeps in the Room of Requirement together with her notes.

Shaw’s scoff is audible even from a distance and she grabs the quill to reply on the most recent floating paper. 

Root smiles, wistful, and her fingertips feel the roughness of inked words on enchanted parchment as the duplicate in front of Shaw burns away without leaving marks.

The library clock strikes four and that means Root should be going as one of her boys is bound to be free for the rest of the day and they’re behind on their side project.

Root stands up to leave, as discreetly as she can, and almost considers not peeking, but she’s too curious not to. She does it just in time to see Shaw folding the note with a lifted eyebrow and putting it inside her bag.

That’s a clear victory, as far as Root is concerned.

 

* * *

 

“Does everyone know what they have to do?” Root asks, eyes going from one boy to the other. They’re standing by the double doors of the Great Hall, ignoring the groups of students lining up at the Entrance to give Filch their names.

Daizo stares at her with a blank expression on his face, Jason looks smug and Daniel looks apprehensive.

All in all, everyone looks exactly as Root would expect them to.

“Jason and Daniel, I left your broomsticks behind the Hog’s Head Inn. There’s an oak that has some sort of natural den in its trunk and the broomsticks are in there.”

“And you used a Disillusionment Charm?”

Root tilts her head to the side and smiles a slow, condescending smile.

“Of course you did,” Jason mutters with an eye roll. “I have the address of the meeting point in Dufftown. What does the guy look like?”

“Blond, sleazy, intrusive,” Root lists, her lips forming a mocking pout. “As long as you know his name, you don’t have to worry about that. The meeting point is a house; I’ll be surprised if he isn’t the only person there. If there’s someone else, just ask for him.”

“Daniel, do you know the spells you have to use?” Daizo prods, and Root feels a burst of pride for her little group of misfits.

“Yes,” Daniel answers, very serious. They have all been practicing since they’d returned to school almost two months earlier. Daizo is probably going to be the best wizard of them all, but he’s also the only one who can be detected due to the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and missions away from the castle can get… a little tricky.

“Dufftown is around 20 minutes away by broomstick.” Root isn’t quite certain about how long the journey will take. She knows how many miles from Hogwarts the muggle town is, but traveling by broomstick is something that eludes her still. “If all goes according to plan, you should be back in Hogsmeade one hour after you leave.”

“We’ll meet you at the Inn after you’re done,” Daizo reminds them. “Text us when you land.”

“And you two?” Jason asks, checking if he has everything he’s supposed to have inside his coat’s pockets.

“I didn’t get permission to go.”

There’s a moment of silence, a mix of sympathy and awkwardness, and Root rests her fingertips on Daizo’s neck for a few seconds. It’s been tough for him ever since his parents had moved back to Japan.

“We’ll take the passageway to Honeydukes,” Root informs, clearing her throat to dissolve the tension. “I’m sure we could all use celebratory candy.”

“Or consolation candy.”

“One of these days you’ll stop being such a downer, Danny,” Jason jests, pushing him in the direction of the Entrance Hall. “Let’s go.”

*

The first thing Root sees when she comes out of the cellar of Honeydukes and into the shop area, two hours later and with Daizo hot on her tracks, is Sameen Shaw staring at a wall of candy-filled jars like she’d just won the lottery.

Even if Root had wanted to remain impassive – which she hadn’t –, her face lights up in a grin and she’s walking over to where Shaw is before she regains control of her body. “Hi, Shaw,” she says, all teeth and innuendo.

They hadn’t seen each other much, mostly after hours and because of Cat. Root likes that cat a lot.

(she’ll take any Shaw sighting she can get really)

“ _You_ ,” Shaw spits out, glaring at Root over her shoulder.

“Aww,” Root coos, her grin widening. “Happy to see me?”

“As happy as I am to see rotten food.”

Shaw then does this grumpy pursing of her lips and her eyes narrow into slits and Root absolutely _loves it_.

“You’ve been working on your similes,” she comments, leaning closer but not quite daring to veer into Shaw’s personal space.

Shaw looks up to meet her gaze but doesn’t bulge one inch. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I was in the area and decided to check up on my after-hours buddy.” She’s glad Daizo had decided to do the candy shopping on his own as that isn’t the kind of statement she’d want him to hear.

“Are you stalking me?”

“Of course not,” Root says, and then her expression morphs from scandalized offense into a leer, “Maybe the universe keeps crossing our paths together for a reason.”

“Yeah right,” Shaw scoffs, turning her attention back to the candy. “Or maybe the universe is a cat with terrible taste in _other_ people.”

“Root,” Daizo whispers nervously, causing her smile to fade. She hadn’t even noticed his return and now here he is, shop bag in hand and urgency in his voice. “I think it’s time.”

She takes her phone out from her jeans’ pocket and unlocks the keypad to open the message. “Sorry, Shaw,” she drawls, half-focused on Jason’s text. “This has been fun, but I have to go.”

“You have a phone?” Shaw asks, one eyebrow lifted up in disbelief.

“Don’t you?” Root shoots back with a wink, as Daizo grabs her by the wrist and starts dragging her out of there. It’s very wise of him.

Root allows herself one extra minute though, and she goes to the counter where she leaves a couple of Galleons with the clerk.

“What is this for, child?”

She points at Shaw in the crowd, “Whatever she wants to get, could you please just tell her it’s on the house?”

 

* * *

 

Root enjoys watching her roommates. She’s not particularly fond of either of them, or them of her or of each other, but they work well together and stay out of each other’s way. Martine is obsessive in her neatness, Kara takes unreasonably long showers (and leaves her books everywhere) and Root keeps odd hours. They had all been made aware of every single of those quirks within one month of being roomed together back in their sixth year.

Instead of hating each other and whining, they had sat together and organized a schedule for cleaning and tidying up both the room and the bathroom, and for the shower time. At night, the room can only be locked after Root arrives and though questions can be asked, answers should never be expected.

Root is in her bed before midnight, for the first time since seventh year started, and is content to wait for sleep while Martine is polishing her wand with a velvet cloth – a habit Root never grew to understand – and Kara is sitting on the round table by the window, frowning at her Potions homework.

“No mysterious treks tonight, Sammy?” Martine queries, watching her from the mirror, and Root squints her eyes. Martine’s using that sugary voice she gets when she’s up to something. It’s a very unusual timbre and Root has come to learn that it’s as dangerous as it is attractive.

“My name is _Root_ ,” she replies, a fake yawn drawing out her voice. “And no. I didn’t want my dear roomies to miss me another night.”

Martine hums, their gazes locked in a silent battle of wills, and puts down the wand to start brushing her hair. Martine is ritualistic to an extreme when it comes to her bedtime routine and Root is fascinated by it. She’ll brush her hair exactly five times for each side and then ten times starting at the forehead and all the way down. Afterwards, she’ll remove her robe and hang it on the hook by her bed, which is the one in the middle of the room despite Martine being the first one to choose a bed. She’ll move to the other side and take off the left slipper first, the right slipper second. She’ll sit on the bed and tap her pillow into a perfect shape (it tends to take three pats, but Root has counted up to twelve) before lying down, back straight on the mattress and hands on stomach.

Root has seen this ritual many times, and it amuses her how Kara is always huffing and cursing at homework in the background while it lasts. Maybe that’s also part of the ritual.

“Root,” Kara calls, turning in her chair and snapping Root out of her reverie, “is there any reason why there’s smoke coming out of your backpack?”

Martine somehow manages to let out an elegant snorting sound and Root jumps out of bed, taking two long strides to reach her bag. She recognizes the smell right away and her heartbeat quickens against her will. Feeling Martine’s eyes on her, she doesn’t dare pull out the enchanted parchment but she can’t help the smile that appears on her lips.

__  


Root doesn’t bother changing from her pajamas, she just puts her slipper boots on and rummages through her wardrobe until she finds the Ravenclaw hoodie Daniel had given her last Christmas.

Martine scoffs, ever the loyal Slytherin, but Root ignores it and blows her a kiss.

She thinks it’s a quite fitting choice of wear for when one goes in search of forbidden knowledge.

*****

“Root,” Shaw utters with such spite that Root immediately knows she’s in for an evening of excellent entertainment. “This isn’t a coincidence, is it?” Shaw’s waiting by the library, dressed in an all-black, criminal-appropriate attire, and she throws her a glare that would destroy most people of lesser resolve. “You’re the person who’s been sending me those messages?”

Root smirks. She hadn’t sent _that_ many since the first day, just a few times here and there, when she’d been sure maximum level of mortification could be achieved.

Like today at breakfast, when a dozen of small parchments saying _“Bon appétit, ma chérie”_ had started raining on Shaw, to every Quidditch player’s great delight and Shaw’s embarrassed horror.

“I should’ve known,” Shaw huffs, probably remembering that very event. “No one else could be that moronic.”

Root brings a hand to her heart, aiming for her best impression of virtuousness. “You know me so well.”

Shaw looks her up and down, scowling at the hoodie before focusing on her legs, “What’s with the cutesy bear pants?”

Root glances at the little bear cartoons on her PJ pants and then pulls the cloth by her hips, making a little curtsy, “Cute, you say?”

Shaw rolls her eyes, “I meant that as pejorative.”

“Of course.” Root’s smile stretches on, reaches her eyes. “So what do you want me to steal for you?”

“I don’t want _you_ to steal anything for _me_ ,” Shaw replies, crossing her arms in defiance. “I want you to teach me how to get into the Restricted Section without permission so I can do it myself.”

“Feisty,” Root singsongs, parting her lips. “I could do that.”

“Great.”

“But it will cost you.”

Shaw harrumphs and Root tries to hide her amusement without much success. “What do you want?”

“A favor.”

“What favor?”

“Oh, I’m sure something will come up,” Root teases, leaning forward slightly. “I’ll let you know.”

“Fine,” Shaw complies, moving towards the library doors. “You get _one_ favor.” She halts, as if stricken by a sudden terrible thought, and turns to lift one finger up at Root. “But I have veto power.”

“Works for me, sweetie,” Root purrs, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Now where do you think you’re going?”

*****

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Shaw growls, pushing a chair out of her way rather ungracefully. “I was just here one hour ago.”

“You knew about the secret studio?” Root tilts her head, her eyebrows raising.

“Yes, but I didn’t know there was a secret passage from the third floor’s boys’ bathroom to the studio,” she says, pressing the panel that gives access to the passageway towards the library. “This would’ve avoided all the times I got caught by Filch leaving the stupid library through the main entrance.”

“How many times did he catch you?”

“Three,” Shaw forces out, in a begrudging manner that Root definitely doesn’t find endearing.

“You need to up your game, Shaw.”

Shaw ignores her and keeps walking, muttering _“Lumos”_ with terrible diction when it gets too dark. Root trails after her, endlessly entertained by how done with everything Shaw appears to be.

“Okay, we’re here,” Shaw announces, stopping in front of the rope closing off the Restricted Section from the rest of the library. “What now?”

“What book do you need?”

“ _Fifteenth-Century Fiends_.”

Root steps over the rope as if it was the easiest and most obvious next step to take in their situation, and starts browsing through the shelves. “Who’s the author?”

“Wha…” Shaw grumbles, shaking her head. “How?”

“Oh.” Root cranes her neck to look at her, amusement dancing in her eyes. “You can access the Restricted Section without written permission from the sixth year onwards.”

“So you’re telling me that I have to rely on other people if I want to find a book here,” Shaw states, irritated.

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Root confirms, removing a book from the top shelf and flicking through it with vague curiosity.

“Then what?” Shaw snaps, clenching her hands into fists.

That’s the exact point where Root likes her the most, the annoyance so close to the surface it’s almost bursting out, and she saunters over until she’s inches away from Shaw, the rope hanging between their bodies. She raises the book and lets one of its corners rest on Shaw’s chest in a lazy gesture. “Day or night, you just need to use an Invisibility Spell on yourself. An Invisibility Cloak will also work, if you manage to get your hands on one. The Section doesn’t recognize invisible presences. Neither does Madam Pince, by the way.”

“That’s it?” Shaw snatches the book away from Root’s hands and glowers at her before spinning around and heading to the secret studio without caring if Root’s behind her or not. Root has no choice but to follow her out anyway, and she opens her mouth to give a word of advice but,

“I know we can’t take books from the library without checking them out, okay?” Shaw grunts, not giving her room to continue. “ _I know._ ” She leaves the book on the studio table and gestures for Root to open the passageway back to the boys’ bathroom. “This castle is so lame.”

Root is very inclined to agree, but she decides that letting Shaw fume in peace is a better course of action for the moment.

 

* * *

 

“Is it working?” Daniel asks, peeking over Root’s shoulder at her computer.

“No,” she replies, unable to keep the edge of frustration from her voice.

They’re in the Room of Requirement, surrounded by laptops, thick IT manuals, cables and notebooks. Friday night is turning into dawn and they’re all exhausted and unproductive, but still unwilling to give up.

(well, all except Daizo. Daizo is asleep on the couch the Room had provided for him as soon as he’d started conking out)

“Is there any signal at all?” Jason drones, rubbing his red-rimmed eyes.

“It’s too weak to do anything with it,” Root says, turning off the computer and placing it on the ground.

“Is it because of the antenna?” Daniel asks, kicking away one of the volumes at Root’s feet so he can sit on the floor in front of her armchair, leaning against one of the arms. Root offers a half-hearted smile and ruffles his hair. “Should we have gotten a bigger one?”

“Or maybe we fixed it wrong?” Jason suggests, walking over to them.

“The antenna is perfect,” Root assures them with a sigh. “We’ll need to confirm if it’s well-assembled, but that shouldn’t be the issue.”

“This stupid castle, I swear to god,” Jason groans, bringing both his palms to his temples.

“Hey, remember in my first year when there wasn’t even electricity?” Daniel jokes, smacking Root’s leg lightly. “Those were the days, eh?”

“Well, you only suffered through one year of that, Root and I had to die of boredom for two,” Jason says, before straightening his back and jutting his chin upwards and an inch to the right, hands clenched by his sides. _“I wish to have all the modern commodities installed in the castle.”_

Daniel bursts into laughter and Root snorts, “If only we needed a McGonagall impersonator to help us get through this.”

“All the modern commodities,” Jason puffs, rolling his eyes. “Except phones and computers or, you know, _the internet_. The only thing that matters.”

“At least their ignorance in technology paid off when electricity came together with phone lines, fiber optic and a proper heating system, right?” Daniel shrugs, and rests his head against Root’s thigh.

“Modern commodities, my friend,” Jason repeats, tone filled with sarcasm. “Do you think magic is interfering with the signal?”

“According to Rowling, the castle is supported by magic and unable to be maintained or constructed by any other means,” Root starts, tapping on her knee with her black-painted fingernails.

“But Rowling has been wrong before,” Daniel points out.

“Oh, and what gave you that impression?” Jason snarks, sitting on the chair’s arm the other side of Root. “The fact that we are somewhere in the Adirondack Mountains and not in Scotland? Or the fact that Peeves is the coolest poltergeist ever and not a little shit?”

“Peeves _is_ a little shit, you’re just lucky he likes you,” Daniel complains.

“Rowling is also proven wrong by the fact that we now have _modern commodities_ ,” Root continues, flicking Daniel’s ear with her finger to make him shut up. “But considering we have to go to Hogsmeade to get cell phone service and the Room of Requirement is supposed to provide us with whatever we need and we had to have all the equipment delivered to Dufftown, it’s very likely that the castle’s magic interferes with technology and there are no studies or literature on it for us to base ourselves on.”

“So we’ll be pioneers in technical magic?” Daniel asks, perking up. “Or magical technology, whatever.”

“Let’s make sure we have the entire system operational first,” Root says, standing up. “We’ll worry about magic later.”

Jason nods and Daniel stretches and Root just stays there for a minute, eyes darting from the servers on the corner to the three boys and to all the mess on the floor. It’s been three months of hard work and they’re not even close to being finished. Root sometimes wonders if they’ll ever make it but then she remembers they’re a group of stubborn, strong-willed, smug geniuses and she’s pretty sure they’ll manage.

“Come on, buddy,” Jason calls, shaking Daizo’s shoulder and bringing Root’s attention back to the present. “Bed time.”

*****

Root should have gone to bed. In a normal circumstance, she would have, but she’s feeling restless and frustrated and some fresh air will do her good, despite the cold.

She walks at a fast pace, scrunching her face at how the early morning light is attacking her puffy, overworked eyes, and crosses the dubious lines between what are considered Hogwarts grounds and what aren’t. She knows where she’s going and she isn’t scared when she enters the Forbidden Forest and starts moving towards the darker part of the woods.

It’s not the first time she comes to the Thestral paddock to find comfort.

Sometimes she doesn’t find it. The Thestrals roam freely in their part of the forest and don’t always care to appear for students breaking school rules. Root knows their names, but she seldom resorts to calling them. She’s also not fond of attracting them with the smell of blood and so she’s prepared to go back without even spotting a Thestral from the distance.

But today she would really rather have a few minutes with the beasts.

Which is what keeps her going deeper into the woods, slower now, vision trying to adjust to the shadows. Her steps become aimless as she isn’t sure anymore what direction to take, but then she hears a familiar shrill shriek and follows the noise.

Coming out of a naturally formed bush fence, Root enters the clearing to see three of the Thestrals from the Hogwarts Herd standing close together and she smiles, relief flooding through her as she approaches them.

It’s only when she’s close enough to touch Tenebrus, her personal favorite since Hagrid had introduced her to the animals, that she notices she’s not alone in the forest.

It’s probably the first time Root is not at least amused by the idea of running into Sameen Shaw by accident and, judging from the way Shaw flinches before she scowls, they share that sentiment. Root averts her eyes and leaves Shaw be, focusing on Tenebrus and placing one hand on his neck and the other above his nose.

They stay together in silence for a long time, enough for the other two Thestrals to trot out and for Shaw to sit on a rock not far behind Root, picking at the ground and drawing odd shapes with a stick.

“Her name was Hanna,” Root whispers, forehead resting against Tenebrus’ muzzle. Her voice breaks as the words come out and she isn’t quite certain why she just spoke. She must be in a severe need of sleep. “She was my friend.”

Shaw doesn’t say anything and Root doesn’t want to, but she waits.

She doesn’t want to, but she cares about this, about this rare instant of vulnerability, and as Shaw’s silence drags on, heavy and unrelenting, it oppresses and suffocates her until she is powerless to bear it. With a soft kiss to the Thestral’s neck, Root spins around, nods at Shaw and starts walking away.

“My father,” she hears, as she’s almost out of the clearing. It’s a stifled, disgruntled sound. “It was my father.”

Root halts and rests her chin on her shoulder to acknowledge Shaw, their gazes locking.

It’s a moment of understanding and even if Root is grateful for it, she makes a point of returning to the castle on her own.

 

* * *

 

“Jason, come on,” Root whines, drawling the _on_ with a pout. “Pretty please?”

She’s hovering above him in the Study Hall, openly disregarding the open books and the parchment he’s working on. The Christmas break is close and that means everyone is swamped under last minute schoolwork.

“Root, I can’t,” Jason says, putting the quill down and looking up at her. “I have to finish this essay for tomorrow and we’re playing against Slytherin this weekend so I have practice later.” He recognizes the eagerness on her face and sighs, “Unless you can somehow get that Leon dude from your House to break a leg? That would improve our odds.”

“That could be arranged,” she singsongs, with a lifted eyebrow and a shake of her shoulder. “But he’s such a lousy player… I wasn’t aware Ravenclaw was that bad at Quidditch.”

“We aren’t. Leon is just a sneaky bastard whose only talent is to annoy everyone until the Snitch magically appears in his hand,” Jason groans, before adding under his breath, “How can anyone be that lucky?”

“I can take care of him.”

“Root, no,” Jason whimpers, dropping his head to the table in despair. “Just go, I have a lot of things to do.”

“You know I didn’t just need your brain when I got you to work with me, right?” she asks, leaning forward and smirking. “I could _really_ use your talents with a broomstick, Jason.”

“Root, you’re too gay for this,” he deadpans, unimpressed, raising his head to glare at her.

She grimaces before her lips curl into a wicked grin, “True.”

“Can’t you ask Daniel?”

“He has a test tomorrow,” Root says, pulling a chair over to sit next to him. “I could ask Daizo.”

“Daizo is sick, remember?” Jason counters, resting his face on his hand. “And we promised we wouldn’t use the kid for delivery missions.”

“I know, I know.” Root sighs, and starts fiddling with his books. “I need to go to Dufftown. My contact will be back in New York tomorrow so it’s either today or our project will be delayed again and we’ll have to go on without extenders until we come back from the holidays.”

“Why don’t you ask the Grumpy Puff?”

Root freezes, eyes shooting up to meet Jason’s, “Shaw?”

“Sameen Shaw, yeah,” he says, with an almost teasing tone, one corner of his mouth quirked up. “From the Hufflepuff Quidditch team?”

“Why would you suggest Shaw?”

“Daizo said you were talking to her for a few minutes in Honeydukes the day we got the antenna.” Jason winks and gives her a light punch on the arm. “We all know you don’t bother talking to anyone unless you have some sort of interest in the situation.” He allows a very pregnant pause, “Or the _person_.”

Root scoffs, unmoved by his banter, and returns her attention to fiddling.

“She’s smart and good with a broomstick,” he reminds her, as if he’s trying to make a case for how great this idea is. “Actually, she’s fucking terrifying with a broomstick, I hate playing against her. _And_ she’s a muggleborn.” He stops abruptly and starts gawking at Root, “Wait, is that why you’ve been talking to her? Are you recruiting her for our project?”

“What?” She shakes her head, baffled by the thought. “No. No, I’m not bringing Shaw into our team.” Getting up, Root grabs Jason’s quill and scribbles down a few key points about flesh-eating trees. “Here, use this. Professor Longbottom loves it.”

“Where are you going?” he asks to her back.

“Shaw owes me a favor.”

*****

The moment Root appears in the library studio, tapping the Fat Gentleman portrait behind her to close the passage to the boys’ bathroom, Shaw puts her Bic pen down in a very measured gesture and locks eyes with her, “If you ever come here again, I will end you.”

Root knows she’s serious, but she also doesn’t care, “Public space, Shaw. I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t need you.”

“What do you want?”

Root grins. Shaw seems to ask her that a lot. “You owe me a favor. I came to collect.”

“What. do. you. want?” Shaw repeats, her mouth curling around each word with deliberation.

“I _need_ you to fly me to Dufftown.”

There’s a minute of silence as Shaw stares at her, dumbfounded. It’s the least angry Root’s ever seen her.

“You need me to do what?”

“Give me a ride to Dufftown,” Root explains, eyebrows knitting together and rising in a silent plea. “On your broomstick. Please?”

Shaw just stares at her for another minute and Root has to make an effort not to cave under her unflinching gaze. “Okay,” she finally says.

“Okay?” Root is pretty sure the smile on her face is way too bright for Shaw’s taste, but where would the fun be otherwise?

“Okay,” Shaw agrees, standing up. “But after we do this, I better not hear from you again.”

*

“Root, can I have some breathing space here?”

“I hate flying,” Root grits out, holding tighter rather than giving Shaw more room. It’s only partly to annoy Shaw. “Wizards and witches are crazy for traveling like this.”

Shaw tenses and straightens her back to readjust her position, “Just make sure you’re not blocking my arms’ movements.”

Root nods, face hidden in Shaw’s shoulder, and breathes deep, again and again, until she notices that Shaw’s scent is comforting to her.

That realization scares her so much that she prefers shifting and looking away.

*****

“You gonna tell me what’s in those boxes?” Shaw asks, landing the broomstick where Root had directed her to on the seventh floor corridor after passing through the balcony doors.

“I’ve told you, Shaw,” Root answers, as she steps away from the broomstick with a nonchalant half-smile. She stretches her legs and rubs her ass and thighs for a moment, to get rid of the sensation of discomfort. Couldn’t wizards have come up with flying couches? “Christmas presents.”

“Yeah right.” Shaw rolls her eyes and leans against the wall with her arms crossed, broomstick abandoned next to her. “Maybe next time you should go get them with a sleigh and a couple of reindeers.”

Root waves her wand with a whisper and twelve rectangular boxes appear, floating in the air.  With a fluid lowering motion, she uses her free hand to get the boxes to land neatly on the carpet. Root is aware of Shaw studying her every movement and so she flashes a cocky grin, “You can go now.”

“Seriously?” Shaw gives her a blank look that somehow conveys her frustration. It’s uncanny how easy it is to read her when she doesn’t say much and shows even less.

“Yes, Shaw,” Root confirms dismissively, crouching down to pile the boxes on her arms. “We’re even, you don’t owe me anything.”

Shaw harrumphs and grabs the broomstick forcefully, storming past Root without even glancing back.

Root watches her until she disappears down a staircase and it’s only then that she notices that the seventh floor, much like the rest of the castle, is already filled with Christmas decorations.

It’s a pity they missed the mistletoe.

Pacing the corridor three times thinking about what she needs, Root enters the Room of Requirement.

She has a lot of work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, the Harry Potter books are real in my universe and yes, you read that right, my version of Hogwarts is somewhere in the state of New York (the Adirondack Mountains, to be more precise). it'll all make sense later, I promise. other than this, all places mentioned in the fic are canon compliant with the HP series, at least as far as their names and relation to Hogwarts go.
> 
> as usual, I'm sending a very tight hug full of love to PhoenixTat for the beta. this time, dustywords also gets a hug because if it weren't for her, the tech part of the plot would probably be all wrong. (thank you, unicorn!)
> 
> I'm hella proud of this chapter, not because it's good or whatever, but because thedorkone is the awesomest fangirl friend in the world and she agreed to help me out with Root's messages, which look GORGEOUS and PERFECT and omg Dani, I love you to Italy and back, okay? THANK YOU. you made this fic a gazillion times better :')


	4. the one with all the raging hormones (magically induced or otherwise)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was getting too big, so I decided to cut it in half and publish it in 2 parts. 
> 
> as usual, all of my love and gratitude to TatiPhoenix, for being the best beta in the world. I can't thank you enough, I really can't.
> 
> many thanks also to dustywords and LizGettingLost. having word wars with you guys made this go a little faster!

Sameen Shaw is a person who pays attention to detail. She will notice the clothes someone is wearing and she will study their features and expressions. She will memorize their perfume and the different voice intonations. She will know the dates of events and file away opinions for later use.

She sometimes wonders why her brain is wired that way since she’s not particularly fond of noticing things about people. Or of people in general.

This particular trait is what has her approaching her mother with caution when she gets off the Hogwarts Express in Grand Central Station to go home for Christmas break.

Mariam Shaw is sitting when she’d normally be standing and that’s the first thing that draws Shaw’s suspicion. She’s sitting with her back straight, as she’s ought to do, but her hands are fidgety on her lap, the left one insisting on coming up to pull away a strand of hair that has never left its place behind her ear. Shaw’s mother is _nervous_ and that is a novelty.

“What’s going on?” Shaw asks, skipping the hellos.

“Sameen,” Mariam breathes, standing up to hold her daughter’s face between her hands before wrapping her in an awkward hug.

“Hi mom,” Shaw says into her mother’s hair, patting her on the back without enthusiasm. “What’s going on?”

“I…” Mariam steps back and exhales deeply, adopting a stern expression. “Always straight to the point, Sameen. A little more subtlety wouldn’t do you any harm.”

“Yes, I know.” Shaw glares at her mother but Mariam ignores it and starts examining her luggage.

“Where is Cat?”

“I left him at Hogwarts. Dobby is looking after him.”

“Is that one of the house-elves?” Mariam waits for Shaw’s assent before continuing, “Won’t Cat be mad at you?”

“Yeah well,” Shaw huffs, forever frustrated at the animal ever since the school year had started, “I was mad at him first. Don’t try to deflect.”

There’s a moment of tense silence and then,

“I want you to meet someone.”

Mariam doesn’t say it, but Shaw knows right away. Someone kind and warm to keep her mother company; someone to help fill the void left by her father’s death and her own prolonged absences.

 “Is he here?” she replies, blunt and tonelessly.

“No,” her mother sighs, looking down. “I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Good.” Shaw forces a small smile and starts walking towards the exit. “Not today.”

Her mother puts her arms around Shaw’s back and pulls her closer for a moment, kisses her overdressed shoulder, and it’s the perfect amount of time for Shaw not to brush her off. Mariam knows her daughter well, “Whenever you want.”

Shaw would never _want_ it, but for her mother she’ll take it.

*

Shaw watches him in the time they spend together on her vacations. He doesn’t know she’s a witch, he just thinks she goes to a boarding school somewhere upstate New York and she lets him (what else could she say?).

His name is Neil and he moves around their house without occupying space, even though he’s a huge black man with a round belly. He’s so different from her father and perhaps that’s the point.

Neil doesn’t visit every day, but when he comes, he sets the table and washes the dishes and if it’s her mother who does the cooking, it’s because she loves it and is better at it than the two of them combined.

He doesn’t try to approach or please Shaw and for that she is grateful. He sits with her though, when they’re watching TV and her mother starts dozing off. He lets Mariam sleep for a little while and strikes conversation with Shaw in a curious, polite manner. Prods with gentle questions and nudges and after a few evenings, Shaw gives a concession and tells him about her weakness for _Top Chef_. If she has to sit with the man, might as well do it while watching something she likes.

Neil likes it too, says cooking is a very fascinating blend of art and science, and Shaw thinks of Transfiguration classes and rolls her eyes.

They watch it until Shaw just wants to go to bed and she has to admit some begrudging respect for the guy when he never sleeps over for the entire time Shaw is home for Christmas. No matter how late it gets, he always leaves.

*

The day before Shaw has to go back to school, he takes them to a restaurant for lunch, claiming he doesn’t want to occupy all of their last day together. Shaw lifts an eyebrow at that but doesn’t say anything. So what if he’ll be driving all the way to New York with them both? It’s a long journey, her mother could use the company on the trip back.

The steak she has there is the best steak Shaw has ever had in her life and Shaw loves steak a lot. It’s enough to make the conversation bearable. Neil is going on and on about how Pluto is no longer considered a planet but that might’ve been a wrong decision on the science community’s part and her mother is fluttering her eyelashes at him.

Since when does she care about astronomy so much anyway?

Maybe she doesn’t. Maybe she just cares about _him_.

Shaw steals a third of her mother’s steak and doesn’t feel remotely sorry about it.

*

When they get to Grand Central Station, Shaw doesn’t let them go in with her. How is she supposed to get to platform 42 ½ with Neil in tow? She shakes his hand with a serious expression on her face and he smiles at her until she nods. Her mother hugs her, and Shaw returns the hug very stiffly before taking a few steps backwards.

Neil places one of his big hands on the small of her mother’s back and Shaw narrows her eyes at the scene. But her mother leans into him, rests her head on his shoulder and she just looks so… safe and relaxed that Shaw has no option but to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Her mother’s happiness is important.

She turns her back on them and crosses the station at a quick pace, thinking she’s rather blessed for being so content in her own skin and never getting to feel lonely.

She can’t really grasp why people have such a _need_ for each other.

*

Shaw walks inside the Hogwarts Express all the way to the last coach. It tends to be the one with the least people and it’s definitely the quietest one regardless of number of occupants.

She’ll never understand why, in a world with magic where a spell such as apparition exists – not to mention portkeys –, she has to waste 5 hours of her life sitting on a train every time she needs to get to or out of Hogwarts.

And, since 2008 seems to be the year of not-giving-Shaw-a-break, she spots Jason Greenfield, Ravenclaw chaser extraordinaire, as soon as she enters the last coach. That in itself would be all fine and dandy; the problem is, Root is the one sitting in front of him. She’d seen them together once after a Quidditch practice and apparently they’re good enough friends to endure each other’s company for the whole ride. They’re both cocky and annoying, that is for sure. And is that Daizo next to Root?

Great, Root has a soft spot for nerdy Quidditch players and they’re all friends with each other. They’re the only ones in the coach, sitting together on table seats, so Shaw scoffs and sits on the first pair of free seats she finds after placing her suitcase in the luggage holder above her head. From this angle, she can see Jason and he’s noticed her sitting there already. She sees the back of Root’s arm and can’t quite see her face since it’s covered in a curtain of hair, but she sees her hands. She’s filing her nails in quick, sure motions.

Jason leans over and his eyes shift from her to Root and back and Shaw just knows he’s telling Root about her presence. Daizo doesn’t move, but the boy next to Jason does, his eyes meeting Shaw’s for half a second. Shaw has seen him before, but she’s not sure she knows who he is. She’ll have to find out.

She’d also be lying if she said she wasn’t annoyed that Root hadn’t even glanced in her direction, she kept on going about her nail-filing like everything else in the world was of lesser importance.

Shaw rolls her eyes and takes her iPod out of her backpack. She’s pretty certain she has a sleeping playlist in there somewhere.

*

Shaw dozes on and off for a while, she’s not sure how long. She’d be happy to do that all the way to Hogwarts but she’s startled awake by her iPod running out of battery and leaving her in unwanted silence. She doesn’t remove her earbuds, seeing how her only coach neighbors are all deep in conversation and unconcerned about her for the time being.

She normally wouldn’t care, the hang-outs between regular people are obnoxious and uninteresting, but Root’s nerds look serious and focused when anyone returning to school after two weeks of vacations should just be chatting about crap, happy to see their friends again.

These boys, however? They are up to something, something big, and it won’t be the end of the world if Shaw has a clue about what that something is.

They’re speaking in whispers and on top of each other, and that makes it very hard for Shaw to understand. She hears a line about a “secret system” but has no idea what that might mean. Jason talks louder than the other two, which would be useful if he were saying words instead of filling his sentences with number/letter codes that make no sense to Shaw.

She does manage to catch that they’re having some sort of money trouble situation and she’s confident she’s about to get what this is all about when Root finally intervenes, so much clearer than any of the boys, “I have taken care of everything.”

Root doesn’t look up from what she’s doing, she just keeps on painting her nails, her gestures careful and deliberate. The nail polish, Shaw realizes then, is black as usual.

A heavy silence falls over the table and Shaw holds her breath, certain that something interesting is about to follow.

But nothing happens. Root blows on her nails and the boys stare at her for a few moments longer before relaxing in their seats. Jason and the unknown one have goofy smiles on their faces and Shaw gives up on trying to find out what’s happening for now.

If they’re looking at Root like she’s the sun, they can’t be in their right minds anyway. Why would anyone look at Root like _that_?

*

After that, Shaw finds herself paying attention to Root and her gang of nerds. At first, it comes out of instinct whenever she crosses paths with them. Root is dangerous and Shaw finds danger very appealing.

But then she starts putting two and two together and she gets _curious_. Most of the times she’d bumped into Root, it was because Root was outside the Hufflepuff Basement. It doesn’t take long for Shaw to figure out that, despite Root’s weakness for Cat – and Cat’s totally unnecessary affection for her –, when Root is there, she’s there waiting for Daizo. Shaw wonders if all these late night meetings are because they’re dating and so she watches them with furrowed brows for a few days.

Turns out they aren’t dating, not judging by the way Root ruffles his hair and fistbumps him all the time like he’s a cool younger brother, but Daizo always looks at Root with adoration and frankly, it disgusts Shaw a little.

The other two nerds also seem to go weak in the knees when Root is around and Shaw can’t put away the thought that she somehow cast a spell on them. She wouldn’t put it past Root.

The formerly unknown one, that she’s now aware is called Daniel, has a crush on Root the size of the entire castle and he has such a scrawny, awkward figure that Shaw rolls her eyes whenever she spots him. It’s good that Root isn’t into him or Shaw would be forced to dislike her more.

(Shaw forgives girls for many things, but not for poor taste in boys)

Jason, however, is smart and handsome and he seems to be Root’s number two. They are alone often and they argue a lot but Root flirts sometimes and he hugs her every now and then and maybe _they_ are the ones who are dating.

Shaw doesn’t know how she feels about it so she takes to following the Nerd Squad when she has the time, or patience, for it. It doesn’t happen that much, but it’s enough for her to take note of some patterns. They go to the seventh floor often, to the same corridor she had flown in with Root before Christmas. Shaw has checked every room in there and hasn’t found a single thing that could be considered out of the ordinary.

It’s also downright aggravating how she keeps losing track of them. One moment she’s several feet behind Daizo or Root and Daniel or the entire Squad, the next it’s like they disappear into thin air. And it hasn’t escaped Shaw’s notice that they somehow become masters of deception when Root is present.

It drives Shaw crazy. To make matters worse, when before she couldn’t get rid of Root anywhere she went, Root now seems to be actively avoiding her and so all Shaw has to go on is the few tidbits she’s gathered from the unsuccessful tracking missions and what she’d known about Root from before. She’d seen Root using an actual cell phone in Hogsmeade, she’d gone with Root all the way to Dufftown to get some mysterious packages and Root seems to know every hidden corner of the castle.

They are up to something, Shaw feels it in her bones. She just can’t seem to discover what it is and that frustrates her more than she’s willing to admit.

It’s funny how paying so much attention to that particular brand of mischief has made Shaw completely miss the other _something_ happening at school.

And by funny, Shaw really means what a fucking disaster.

*

“As you all know, House Pride Week will be a little earlier this year because Easter falls on March 23rd,” Headmistress McGonagall is saying from the High Table, while Shaw is finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than her roast. “Because of that, we will host the elections for the Pride Committee earlier than usual.”

“And by that she means tonight,” Fusco mumbles, next to Shaw.

“Tonight?” Shaw splutters, mouth full of food. “Are there candidates?”

“Zoe Morgan for Ravenclaw, like last year. No one volunteered from the other Houses.”

“Great,” Shaw sighs, with an eye-roll. “Who are you voting for?”

“Votes are supposed to be secret, Grumpcake.”

“Oh shut up.”

Fusco snorts and Shaw shrugs before attacking her dish again. She’s vaguely aware of McGonagall’s speech in the background but she can’t be bothered to care until she’s finished her meal and everything on the table disappears to give room to ink bottles, quills and parchments.

Elections being so much faster and easier is one of Shaw’s favorite things about magic. All they have to do is write down the name of a student from their House and the final count will appear on the voting parchment of their Head of House. It doesn’t tend to take more than 10 minutes, depending on ties or how slow people are in their decisions. Considering there are no candidates to focus on, this election will probably be a bit longer than that.

“You can now write down your votes,” the Headmistress announces, and Shaw grimaces, studying her House mates to try and guess which one wouldn’t be horrible at representing Hufflepuff in the Committee. Her eyes land on Andre Cooper, a nice enough sixth year that tries to land everyone a girlfriend, and she figures he’s a safe bet. It is known that the only things people care about during Pride Week are the Quidditch game on the weekend (and this year that’ll be Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff) and the prom the Friday after, so Andre should manage just fine.

She writes down his name, sees the ink disappearing to go count as a vote, and shifts in her seat until she finds a good position, waiting for everyone to be done with their decisions.

A few minutes later, McGonagall orders silence in the Great Hall, after receiving the last voting parchment from Professor Sprout.

“The Slytherin representative for the House Pride Committee this year will be Miss Martine Rousseau,” she says in a loud, clear voice.

Shaw frowns. Isn’t Martine the mother of all Slytherin bitches? Maybe that’s how Slytherin likes it since they seem to be applauding and quite proud of their choice.

Shaw scans the tables in search of Root to gather what’s her opinion on this choice and, unsurprisingly, she’s nowhere to be seen. She must’ve left after casting her vote as otherwise the staff would’ve noticed someone missing. Her Nerd Squad is still around though, so it’s possible Root just isn’t into school traditions. Shaw can’t blame her for that.

“For Ravenclaw, Miss Zoe Morgan.”

Unlike what had happened with Martine, everyone is clapping and cheering for Zoe. She’s the Head Girl this year and she’s charming and insightful and well, it’s no secret everyone at Hogwarts is at least a little in love with her. She walks to the High Table with a pretty smile and she thanks McGonagall with a small bow, accepting the Committee Badge and the Committee Coin before moving to stand next to Martine. They shake hands and talk for a minute and Shaw lifts one eyebrow. Is Martine not that bad or is Zoe really just that amazing at dealing with people?

“The representative for Gryffindor will be Mr John Reese.”

There is a tense moment of silence and then the Great Hall bursts into an explosion of shouting and feet stomping and Shaw can’t stop laughing at John’s terrified expression as he walks to the High Table as if he’s walking on death row.

“Is Carter behind this?” she asks Fusco, fists banging on the table to help the noise. “Is this because of his crush on Zoe that hasn’t gone anywhere?”

“John is a wimp,” Fusco says into her ear to be heard over the chaos. “He needed a hand.”

“And if we get to mock him for two months while giving him a hand, I’m 100% here for that.”

Professor Slughorn gets everyone to shut up and McGonagall grabs the last parchment. Shaw feels her stomach drop when she notices McGonagall furrowing her brows as she reads the name there.

“And finally, the Hufflepuff representative for the House Pride Committee will be Miss Sameen Shaw.”

The roar of excitement that fills the Great Hall is enough for Shaw to overcome her initial shock and to punch Fusco without being seen, “I will fucking kill you, Lionel.”

He just laughs it off and suddenly Shaw sees the past few weeks flash before her eyes. How Fusco and Carter had gotten closer and a little secretive. How people would stare at her with knowing smirks whenever she entered the Hufflepuff common room. How she had ignored it all because she had been too damn focused on Root and her Nerd Squad.

“Someone has to keep an eye on John, Shaw,” Carter says, from behind her. If it were someone else, they’d be on the floor crying already. “Think of this as taking one for the team.”

Shaw grits her teeth all the way to the High Table and the only thing that makes her feel _slightly_ better is how panic-stricken John still appears to be.

That, however, doesn’t help much. They’re at the end of January and she now has two months of Committee meetings and event organization ahead of her.

2008, the year of not-giving-Shaw-a-break indeed.

 

* * *

  

Breakfast at Hogwarts is between 7.30h and 9.30h and Shaw never – _ever_ – misses it. Breakfast is her every morning reward, after running laps around the Quidditch pitch and a shower.

She pours some food in Cat’s bowl and leaves, tying her wet hair in a ponytail. When she’s passing the only suit of armor in the corridor that leads to the Great Hall, she’s pulled into its corner forcefully. Shaw tries to fight whoever has grabbed her, but she’s pushed against the wall by her attacker, one hand covering her mouth to keep her from shouting.

“For someone who loves food as much as you do, you sure go to breakfast late.”

Shaw glares at Root, who removes her hand to lower her hoodie but remains pressed against Shaw’s body.

“ _Root_ ,” Shaw snarls, shoving her away. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Root does that irritating head tilt she always does when she knows something Shaw doesn’t, “I came to warn you.”

“About what?”

“You should stay away from the orange juice this morning.”

“And why would I do that?”

Root smiles, eyes twinkling with mischief, and Shaw definitely shouldn’t be so intrigued by the damn girl whenever that expression is on her face, “Why, Shaw, we wouldn’t want you to discover things you’re not ready to find out yet.”

“What do you mean?”

But Root is already walking away, hips swaying as if the goddamn corridor was a fucking catwalk. Why does she have to do that?

“Root!” Shaw hisses, stepping out from behind the suit of armor. “Root, what did you _do_?”

*

It takes until lunch time for Shaw to remember that Root had warned her about the orange juice. The juice is served at lunch too so Shaw figures it’s safer to drink water for the day but she still has no idea what the juice does as she hasn’t noticed anything strange happening around her. Everyone is acting the exact same towards her and their other interactions don’t seem so different either.

Maybe Root is just messing with her. She sure seems to be into that these days.

Shaw finishes her meal in record time and runs out. It takes forever to get to the Dungeons and she doesn’t want to be late for Potions. Legend has it Professor Snape was way worse, but she can’t imagine how anyone could be more boring and loathsome than Professor Dominic.

She gets to the Dungeon Corridor and slows down, staring intently at each door. It’s been five years and she still has trouble recognizing the door to the Potions classroom. She blames it on the castle and its changing ways. Also, where is everybody? She usually just follows whoever is in her class but today the Corridor is empty except for a Slytherin boy walking in her direction.

“Hi,” she says, pondering how she should ask him about the classroom’s whereabouts without sounding like an idiot.

He halts and puts his hands in the pockets of his uniform’s pants, a charming grin spreading on his face. “Hi,” he replies, freeing a hand to point at her in recognition. “Sameen Shaw, right?”

Shaw lifts an eyebrow and studies him, unsure if she has seen him before. She should have because well, this boy is _fine_. “Yes. And you are?”

“Matthew Reed,” he says, holding out a hand for her to shake. She does, and then puts her hair behind her ear with a smile. She can do coy.

“What year?”

“Seven.”

Shaw tilts her head, “Root’s year then.” As soon as the words are out, she curses herself. Her more-failed-than-successful investigation is interfering too much with her life at school.

“Root?” Matthew widens his eyes and Shaw notices that his eyelashes are so long and dark that it seems like he’s wearing eyeliner. This boy is too pretty for Hogwarts and how utterly unfair that she has to be dealing with him when she’s almost late for class. “You mean the weird girl with the nerdy fanboy club?”

“She’s not weird.”

“Is she your friend?”

“No,” she scoffs. “She’s a pain in my ass. Look, I’m late for Potions, so –”

“First door on the left after Salazar Slytherin’s tapestry.”

“Thanks.” Shaw makes an awkward parting wave and moves past him, pausing when he calls her.

“Would you be up for getting a drink at Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Shaw turns around and smirks, “Why not?”

Sounds like a plan. And she’ll make sure _she_ is the one looking very proud of herself on the weekend.

*

Exchanging knowing looks with Martine Rousseau isn’t exactly Shaw’s preferred pastime, but it’s often her only option in Pride Committee meetings when all John does is be a useless smitten puppy.

Today the knowing looks are being replaced by exasperated frowns and it’s a testament to how Martine is, if nothing else, a manageable bitch that she signs for Shaw to take the lead in the conversation instead of going on a less than diplomatic rant herself.

“With all due respect, Zoe, but Spring Wonderland? Seriously?”

“The prom is on March 21st,” Zoe says, hands folded together on the table. “I find it very fitting.”

“It’s also boring, come on,” Shaw argues, rolling her eyes for good measure. “What do you want to do? Dress code: flowers? Decoration: sunshine and trees?”

“Groundbreaking,” Martine deadpans.

“I don’t see what’s so wrong with flowers.” Zoe glances at John, expecting his support.

Something is off here. John is a lot more… _overt_ in his body language towards Zoe; his arm is actually resting on the back of her chair, but Shaw has no time for this. Not when she’s in danger of having to attend a dance with something resembling _flowers_ in her outfit.

“Flowers do offer a lot of possibilities,” John comments.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Martine interjects, in her venomous voice that Shaw kind of likes. Not that she would ever admit to that. “Did I somehow miss the memo telling us to travel back in time to the end of year parties at primary school?”

Who would’ve thought Martine would end up being her favorite Committee member?

“Spring can be an adult theme.”

“In the sense that birds do it, bees do it?” Shaw asks with a wink, causing Zoe to sigh and sit back, John’s arm falling to her shoulders.

“We could have the dress code be Spring Colors so everyone would wear colorful dresses instead of falling back on the safety of black,” Zoe continues, staring pointedly at Shaw. “It’s also very easy to charm birds and flowers and it doesn’t take that much effort to rearrange the Great Hall and have it look like one of those event tents they have in the countryside. The decoration would be lovely.”

“You mean like a wedding tent,” Shaw says, going toneless in disbelief. She shakes her head and tries to ignore Martine’s bubbling anger. “It’s a prom, Zoe. People are gonna be losing their virginity, not finding the love of their lives.”

“I refuse to be involved in a party that is so nauseatingly… romantic and _shiny_.” Martine crosses her arms in annoyance and Shaw can’t blame her. “ _Ew._ ”

“Yeah, that,” Shaw agrees, trying to keep herself in check. The truth is she’d never be caught dead in a Spring themed prom if she weren’t Committee. “Not to mention Spring matches daytime better and the prom is at night.”

“What suggestions do you have?” John asks then, fingers drawing patterns on Zoe’s arm in a suspicious display of bravery. Since when does John have any game?

“Horror House,” Shaw replies right away.

“We’re a little early for Halloween, dear,” Martine snarks.

“Think about it, it could be the most original prom this school has ever had!” she insists, palms opening against the wood surface. “I’m not talking about people wearing horror masks, everyone wants to be all dressed up for prom. But we could have volunteers dressing up as horror characters, the chaperones, the waiters, all of those. And we live in a _magic castle_. It’s not that hard to come up with cats and bats and spider webs. We even have ghosts!”

“The drinks could be made to look like potions too,” John says, before shrinking under Martine and Zoe’s glares. “What? The idea is cool.”

“It’s a cliché to have an old castle as a Horror House,” Martine says, eyes leaving John to focus on her blood-red nails. That might be a Slytherin tell for boredom, now that Shaw comes to think of it. “And what are _horror characters_ anyway?”

“Oh right,” Shaw mutters. “I forgot that you purebloods lead very sad lives.”

Martine snarls, eyes narrowing into slits, “Vampires? Werewolves? Demons?” She does a dismissive hand gesture, “Boring.”

Shaw grits her teeth and watches as Zoe leans forward so she can place her elbow on the table and rest her face on her hand. John appears disappointed at that and Shaw snorts against her will.

“Isn’t that what we do every Halloween?” Zoe asks, in a soothing tone.

“Not like this. We decorate the castle with pumpkins and the like and there’s a lame show after dinner, but that’s it.” Shaw grimaces. She’s never cared about Pride Week before, but she wasn’t put on this earth to give less than 100% to anything she’s involved in and make a fool out of herself. “This would be different. We could give them a full experience, not just a dance.”

“Hum hum,” Martine offers, out of politeness or disdain, Shaw couldn’t say. “How about we go with Under the Sea?”

John shrugs, “I like it. It’s not as ambitious as Horror House and we can still do a great work with decoration and ambience.”

The three girls turn to him with varying degrees of surprise and John just smirks.

“Yes,” Martine says, looking not entirely sure of what she’d just heard. “Under the Sea would allow for creativity in dress code and the options for decorations are infinite. It’s also decidedly more imaginative than Spring Wonderland and Horror House.”

Shaw isn’t convinced and there’s room somewhere in there for a joke about how of course Slytherins would like to be under something at all times, but this meeting has gone on for far too long and she has better things to do.

“If you can’t agree on any of those, there’s always Under the Stars,” John reminds them. “We haven’t had that in ages and you can’t go wrong with classics.”

Shaw groans and Martine huffs and Zoe gets up to put an end to this. There hasn’t been an election per se, but Zoe acts like she’s Committee Chair and they’re all okay with that. “We’re not getting anywhere, so I propose we meet again tomorrow and each one of us presents their theme to the best of their abilities.”

“And then we vote on it?”

“We vote for two, excluding our own, and whichever theme gets the most votes is the theme we use for prom,” Zoe declares. Shaw opens her mouth to protest, but Zoe cuts in before she can speak, “No discussion. It’s the democratic way to do it.”

Shaw rolls her eyes and leaves the classroom they use for Committee meetings before the others are even ready to go. Democracy was what had gotten her in this mess in the first place.

*

It takes Shaw all day to reach a conclusion about what Root had meant with her cryptic warning in the morning. There are a lot of annoying giggly couples in the corridors but there always are annoying giggly couples in the corridors and so she doesn’t quite notice that the number is unnaturally _higher_ today. It doesn’t help that romance is the last thing on her list of life priorities so she’s not particularly prone to focus on it. She hears enough gossip to know who likes who and that suits her just fine.

But when she enters the All-House Common Room on the second floor and the first thing she sees is John and Zoe making out on a couch, it hits her.

_A Love Potion._

Root had added some sort of Love Potion to the orange juice. There’s no other way John would have been brave enough to try anything with Zoe Morgan.

Shaw smirks, unsure whether to be impressed at Root’s prank or annoyed that it had made her day that much weirder. She doesn’t dwell for long though. Tomas Koroa, the Ravenclaw Seeker, is calling her from the games corner and she has a reputation of poker master to maintain.

*

It’s a little surprising to Shaw how much she’s enjoying Tomas’ company. They’d finished the game a while before and he’s obviously under the effect of the Potion, but Shaw had noticed the longing glances he throws at her before and this isn’t unexpected. What is unexpected is how funny and easy to talk to he is. Shaw catches herself feeling a little flustered at the way he holds her gaze and rests his hand on her leg.

It’s not entirely… unpleasant. Plus, he’s hot, smart, good at Quidditch _and_ at poker. Shaw isn’t in the business of saying no to exciting kissing prospects.

But not right now because curfew is in a few minutes and Shaw just spotted Root walking in the Common Room and leaving right after.

“I’m sorry, Tomas, I have to go.”

She stands up and he looks at her with such heartbreak that she rolls her eyes and gives him a peck on the lips before running out the door.

Root is walking fast and, judging by the direction she’s taking, she’s headed to her dorm, so Shaw quickens her pace and whispers in Root’s ear as she catches her, “It’s pretty great finally being able to sneak up on you.”

Root startles and turns to face her, hands clenching for half a moment. “Shaw,” she breathes out.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Root smiles, that disconcerting smile of hers that makes Shaw’s irritation flare up, “Didn’t you say you never wanted to hear from me again?”

Shaw harrumphs. “You didn’t have to be so extreme about it.”

“Why, Shaw,” Root teases, eyes twinkling with delight. “Don’t tell me you’ve missed me.”

“No,” Shaw says, leaving a respectable moment before answering both for her reply not to seem hasty and to allow for Root to build hope that she has every intention of crashing. “I just wanted to know what you and your Nerd Squad are up to and you’ve been conspicuously absent.”

“So should I go back to crossing paths with you and let you progress in your little side investigation?”

“You can do whatever you want.”

“Is that why you followed me?”

Shaw purses her lips and mulls the question over for a few seconds, “What kind of Love Potion did you use in the juice? I thought Love Potions made people fall in love with the person who gives them the potion.”

“You figured it out, uh?”

Shaw glares at Root. Of course she’d find out about the Love Potion. How dare Root doubt that?

“I made a few alterations,” Root says with a shrug and a playful grin. “This potion just made people act on their attractions instead of settling for feeling them.”

That explains John and Tomas, and also that Slytherin boy in the Dungeons corridor. Shaw refuses to believe it explains Zoe though. She’ll go with temporary insanity for that one. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Keeping me out of it,” she grunts. It’s not like she’s attracted to anyone but it was still nice of Root. “Why did you do it?”

“Keep you out of it?”

“No. Why did you put half the school under the effect of a Love Potion?”

“Well,” Root drawls, stepping into Shaw’s personal space with a mischievous expression brightening her face. “Sometimes a distraction is welcome.”

Shaw huffs and pushes Root away, starting to walk back towards the kitchens.

“Oh, and Shaw?” Root calls. Shaw can hear the smirk in her voice and it’s so infuriating that she decides to ignore her and keep walking. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Shaw shakes her head and fights off a smile, her left hand moving to adjust a strand of hair that doesn’t need adjusting.

_Of fucking course._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you were wondering, Shaw's future step-dad is shamelessly inspired by Neil deGrasse Tyson. no regrets. oh, and Mariam is a Farsi name.
> 
> also, I already have the prom events outlined, but they're totally independent from the prom theme. if you guys want to vote on that, please let me know which one is your favorite in the comments and I'll use the one most people prefer. :)
> 
>  **edit:** I'm off to work on a cruise for the next few months, so updating will be a slow process. worry not, this story is about 4 chapters from being completed and I will finish it if it's the last thing I do ^^


	5. the one with the crazy shenanigans (that are mostly illegal)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am super sorry for how long this took (15 months!!) but I no longer work on cruise ships and I'm back to writing, so this story will be completed this year - yay! this is the longest chapter yet to make up for my absence!
> 
> trigger warning for (mild) underage drinking

Shaw had never been the type to run out of words, but looking at John’s proposal of a prom poster, she can’t think of a single word to say. 

She still can’t believe they’d all voted for Spring Wonderland as a second choice trusting nobody else would – what a group of fucking idiots. Now they’re stuck with it for the long run. And with the appalling duties associated with it, apparently.

Martine’s usual robotic demeanor is turned into a mask of shock and so it comes as no surprise when they both turn to Zoe for help. She’s the Committee Chair after all.

“John,” Zoe begins, after a long and deep breath, “what on earth is this?”

“The prom poster,” he deadpans, as if there’s absolutely nothing wrong about the dreadful thing.

“Well yes,” Zoe concedes, and Shaw has to appreciate, again, how diplomatic she is. “But we were aiming for something simpler, maybe.”

“Definitely less crowded,” Martine mutters, crossing her arms with a scowl.

“I did say art was not my forte.”

“You also said logistics, music, decoration, invitations _and_ hosting weren’t your forte,” Shaw butts in, with an eye roll. “We assumed you were just being lazy.”

She gets a stern look from Zoe and a smirk from Martine, so she files her intervention as a win.

“Should we just start again?” Martine asks. “Is anyone here good at drawing so we can make a sketch?”

They all frown, staring at the poster wordlessly for a moment.

“Maybe you should just draft something, Zoe,” John suggests, passing her a large piece of parchment. “Just because you seem to be the one with better taste for… this sort of thing,” he finishes, lamely.

Martine rolls her eyes and Shaw snickers as she hands Zoe a quill, “Let’s go with minimalistic instead?”

Zoe shrugs and writes the date, time and location at the bottom of the parchment, “Give me your ideas, people.”

Shaw sighs, and hopes the meeting doesn’t run so long it interferes with her other plans.

*

Shaw enters the kitchen and feels the wall in search for the electrical light switch, but the candles turn on without her interference and she finds Dobby right in front of her, holding a ham and cheese sandwich, “Dobby made food for Sameen Shaw.”

She smiles and takes the sandwich out of his hands with a grumbled thanks, “Is Daizo sleeping already?”

“Daizo is, Sameen Shaw.” The elf nods enthusiastically and Shaw pats him on the shoulder. “Dobby gave him the Sleeping Potion, stole his clothes and Dobby hit his own head on the oven three times.”

“You need to stop that, Dobby,” Shaw lets out in-between bites, a grimace etched on her face. “It’s just a Sleeping Potion, you didn’t hurt him.”

“Dobby didn’t hurt Daizo, Daizo sleeping on his bed!”

“Yes, yes!” Shaw interrupts, holding up her hands in a pacifying gesture. “I know, you did everything you had to and you were perfect. Thank you, Dobby.” She cleans her shirt of the bread crumbs before she addresses him again, “Is Cat here?”

“Cat is with Dobby, sir.” He does a strange whistling sound and Cat appears, like the dog he isn’t. This is so not the pet she’d signed up for. Dobby picks him up in that clumsy way he has that always reminds Shaw of _The Lion King_.

“Could you take care of him for tonight?” she asks, rescuing the animal from Dobby’s sloppy hold and putting him back on the floor. “Where are Daizo’s clothes?”

“It is Dobby’s pleasure, sir!” he replies with a bright grin, handing her a ball of black and yellow clothes. “Good luck, Sameen Shaw!”

She waves goodbye and leaves the kitchen. Luck is something she most definitely needs tonight. 

*

“Myrtle, if you don’t shut up right now, I promise I will become a ghost just to haunt you, and trust me,” Shaw snarls, closing the door to the bathroom cubicle behind her with a bang, “you don’t want to spend eternity with me as your enemy.”

The annoying ghost girl gasps audibly but stops with her meddling and Shaw manages to drop Daizo’s hair in her mud-looking brewing of the Polyjuice Potion, watching as it changes to a warm orange color that makes her feel less disgusted about having to drink the dumb thing.

The lengths she has to go to to discover the Nerd Squad’s big secret.

She pours a ladle into a tiny bottle and stares at the liquid for a little longer, before raising the bottle to make a toast to herself and swallowing the whole portion down in one gulp.

For a moment, nothing happens and Shaw thinks she might have screwed up the potion brewing. It's a seventh year level concoction, and what kind of potion takes one month to prepare anyway?

But then she feels her insides start writhing in such a way that she has to grab the toilet, certain she’s about to be sick. That sensation doesn’t last and is quickly replaced by a burning that spreads from her stomach to every nerve ending of her body and soon she drops to the floor, panting as her skin feels like it’s melting and her hands begin to grow, fingers thickening slightly. Her shoulders go next, stretching a painful inch, and she’s never felt happier that Daizo is short and slim. Her eyes hurt and she resists the desire to touch them when she feels them changing shape, allowing herself a minute to breathe deep as her hair recedes into her scalp and her chest expands.

When it’s all over, she takes off her clothes and looks at her new body, touching her muscles and tracing her bones and articulations. She can’t help feeling proud she’d pulled it off.

“Myrtle?” she calls, trying out Daizo’s voice. It sounds a little off, but maybe that’s because now she’s the one speaking it rather than just hearing it. “How do I look?”

The annoying ghost wheezes and then giggles and it takes her an eternity to say, “You’re _naked_!”

Why yes, she is, and Daizo has a surprisingly fit body and extremely smooth skin and she’d love to play with the cheese stick between his legs – her legs? – if that weren’t such an invasion of privacy. That particular transformation had been the only one that had felt painfully pleasurable instead of only painful but time is of the essence and she has no idea how long the potion will last since this is the first time she’s ever used it.

With strong, sure motions, she puts on Daizo’s change of clothes Dobby had borrowed for her and checks the mirror to see if everything is in the right place and if the potion hadn’t somehow screwed up the face part. It hadn’t. And it is very very weird to be thinking her own thoughts, with her usual inner voice, when what she sees in the mirror doesn’t match up in any shape or form.

“All good?” she asks Myrtle. She feels like clearing her throat every time she speaks.

“You look better like this.”

“Shut up,” Shaw says with an eye-roll. She stops halfway, remembering that she’s now Daizo and she has to behave like him. “What time is it?”

“Midnight.”

“I have half an hour then.”

She’ll need some practice in the smile department. Daizo smiles too much.

*

Shaw had miscalculated how close Daizo and Root were, or rather, she’d noticed it, and she’d just failed to consider the repercussions of that on her current plan. It’s taking all her strength not to push Root away with a groan as she keeps bringing Daizo’s body closer to hers and ruffling his hair and there’s actually a moment when she kisses his temple. Shaw hadn’t had to suffer through this much touching in months, not even when Matthew had turned out to be a cuddler after that one time they’d made out.

It doesn’t help, in any way – it doesn’t help at all, really –, that Root smells like apples and mischief, and that her hair is so silky it gives Shaw goosebumps every time it brushes Daizo’s naked neck.

Shaw spends quite the amount of time with Daizo due to their shared Quidditch interest and she’s never heard him say much more than monosyllables so it’s a relief that that seems to be working for Root. She just hopes her smiles aren’t as strained as she feels they are.

They make it to the seventh floor, after the most arduous journey through the castle Shaw had ever had to endure, and Root heads straight into…

A wall?!

And _poof!_ , she’s gone. Shaw should’ve known there was some sort of secret room up there. She’d lost hours of her life searching through every room on the seventh floor without finding anything out of place but she had been sure whatever the nerds were doing, they were doing it here. It’s infuriating that this option hadn’t occurred to her before. Now she has no idea how to access the damn room.

Bringing both hands to her currently short hair, Shaw paces in front of the wall, all that crosses her mind being _I need to go where Root is_ on a loop.

She hears a strange sound, as if a bubble had popped, and when she looks to her left she spots a door she’d never seen before. She has no idea what she’s done to get the door to appear – maybe Root did it from the other side? – but she wastes no time opening it.

“Hey, Daizo,” Daniel says as soon as she’s inside.

“What took you so long?” Jason asks, Root standing next to him with a shrewd grin.

It takes a monumental effort for Shaw to focus on saying, “I got distracted”, when all her chin wants to do is drop to the floor in the face of what’s surrounding her. Books the size of Transfiguration tomes are scattered across the floor and they’re all white and Shaw would bet her right arm that they’re all exceedingly boring.

That’s not even what has her trying to keep Daizo’s facial expression neutral. There are at least five different laptops in the room, not to mention the giant computer-y boxes at the back. This place is like a miniature version of Google’s warehouses. A very amateur version, but _still_.

“Work on the database with Daniel, Daizo,” Root orders, sitting on an armchair, a laptop already on her legs. “I’ll finish the intranet coding.”

“Should I work on the students’ Wi-Fi access?”

“No,” Root says, not even looking up. “I want the intranet network to be completed first. Work on the website, Jason. We’ll go from there when both are done.”

Shaw doesn’t want to feel impressed but it’s hard not to be when a bunch of nerdy teenagers have managed to bring the internet to Hogwarts. To top it off, Root seems to be the leader of this massive illegal operation. Shaw dislikes harboring any sort of positive feelings towards Root but okay, this? This is kinda hot.

She follows after Daniel who points her towards a laptop resting on top of a two-feet-high pile of parchment.

“Bet you I can finish my pile before you, kid,” Daniel teases, and Shaw wishes she could rise up to the challenge but she has no idea what she’s supposed to do.

“We’ll see,” she replies, noncommittally, turning the computer on. She’s lucky that Daizo doesn’t have anything password-protected, so she decides to postpone her escape.

Silence settles around them and Shaw studies Daniel in order to pretend she’s doing the same things he is. Reading the parchments, she discovers they are school records and she flick through them, realizing these four idiots have records dating ten years back and all the way to the present. Shaw had never wondered where the school records were kept, but she’s pretty sure they were nowhere students could easily access them. Which means she’s in possession of stolen, classified property.

Maybe that’s what the whole Love Potion business had been about – a distraction to keep the adults away from their usual posts.

Shaw snorts, trying to push away the begrudging respect filling her thoughts. It’s quite remarkable that the Nerd Squad had somehow been badass enough to retrieve them without being caught.

Adjusting a strand of hair with her left hand, Shaw starts exploring Daizo’s laptop, in the hopes of finding a document where she can insert all the data from the parchments – that seems to be what’s expected of her, at least. When none of the most obvious document names turn out to be useful in her search, she shrugs and decides it doesn’t hurt to check what’s up on Facebook since this room seems to have working internet. Seeing that her mom had changed her profile picture to one of her with Neil, all smiley and in love, makes her change her mind though. It’s better to leave before the potion wears off anyway; Shaw very much enjoys avoiding awkward situations.

She turns off the computer and stands up with a groan, claiming she’s not feeling so well. Or Daizo isn’t. Whatever. This Polyjuice Potion business is confusing. To her annoyance, Jason gets up to say his goodbyes in the form of some sort of secret handshake that’s out of the realm of Shaw’s Daizo impersonation and yeah, awkwardness not avoided.

_Great._

“You’re not Daizo,” Jason says, eyes narrowing and hands balling into fists. Shaw would prefer not to notice the way his body moves to shield Root’s, still sitting on the armchair, but there’s not much she can do about that now.

Daniel shifts to look at them, one eyebrow arching towards his hairline.

“Dude, I’m just tired, I’m sorry,” Shaw tries, wincing at the sound that comes out, a mix of her and Daizo’s voices. It shouldn’t surprise her that the potion would pick now to start failing her.

Jason furrows his brow and shakes his head, like he can’t believe what’s happening.

“What’s your favorite color?” Daniel asks. There’s no malice to the question or to his tone, and Shaw would be grateful for it if she knew the answer.

“Uh, black?” she offers, shoving her hands in the pockets of Daizo’s pants.

Root appears next to Jason, an unnervingly knowing grin plastered on her smug, irritating face. “Yellow first,” she says, with a head tilt, “then black. But you wouldn’t know that.”

“Root, what’s going on?” Jason takes a step forward and Shaw scoffs. As if Root needed him to protect her.

“Oh, nothing special,” Root replies, winking at Shaw in that weird, poorly-executed way of hers. “Shaw here just decided to step up her game to find out what we’ve been up to.”

Shaw’s eyes widen for a second, but then she schools her features into a smirk. Root is good at this game, and she can admit defeat when the situation calls for it. “How did you know?” she asks, curiosity creeping at the corners of her eyes.

“Let’s just say the house elves have their loyalties in the right place place,” Root offers, leaning into Shaw’s personal space as she’s bound to do. “But I have to give it to you, recruiting Dobby to help you, successfully preparing a Polyjuice Potion, finding your way inside the Room of Requirement… Not bad.”

Shaw curses under her breath, wondering what Root could possibly have on Dobby to make him like _her_ more but her musings are interrupted by Jason coming even closer, his broad-shouldered figure occupying too much space in Shaw’s field of vision, “Wait, wait, where is Daizo? What did you do to him?”

“Daizo is fine,” she mutters, wincing as her fingers begin to slender and she feels her toes shrinking. “Dobby gave him a Sleeping Potion. Now will you please let me go over there while this potion wears off or do you want to stand here awkwardly with disgusted expressions on your faces for the next five minutes?”

Root looks like she’s entertaining the idea but Daniel whisks her away, leaving her in a somewhat-hidden-from-view corner, behind the servers. Shaw writhes and groans and swears she’ll never touch a Polyjuice potion ever again in her life as her bones pop and her muscles snap but eventually she finds herself in a body she recognizes, although the clothes now feel loose and itchy on her skin.

When she approaches the Nerd Squad, they’re discussing casting a Memory Charm on her and she’d be insulted if Root hadn’t interjected on her behalf, “Shaw is not a danger to our operation. She might even prove to be an asset.”

“Maybe,” Shaw drawls, dusting off Daizo’s clothes to try and suppress her discomfort, “but what exactly _is_ this operation? And what’s in it for me?”

“Root, I don’t think –“

“It’s fine, Jason,” she cuts, eyes focused on Shaw. “As you’ve probably figured out, we’re bringing Wi-Fi to Hogwarts. There’s no sense for a magical school to stay in the middle ages just because it’s, well, _magical_.” Root tilts her chin to the side, the beginning of an eye-roll if Shaw’s ever seen one on her face. “We’re also building a database so all the student records can be easily stored in a school network, and creating a portal that both professors and students can access through their own personal accounts.”

“Huh,” is all Shaw gives back to Root’s eager expression. There’s no way she’s gonna show any hint of approval to this nuisance of a girl. Who’s single-handedly leading an illegal cybernetic operation to bring technology into a magical school but who cares about details? “Can I go? I just wanted to know what you nerds were planning and now I do. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Aww, Sameen, you don’t have any questions?”

Shaw frowns, the use of her first name unfamiliar on Root’s voice, “No, Root, I don’t have any questions.” She turns and leaves the room without a second thought, smirking at Jason’s annoyance and Daniel’s dumbfounded expression.

Truth is, Shaw does have a lot of questions. But this isn’t the time. Not yet.

 

* * *

 

There’s palpable tension in the air in the Hufflepuff locker and while Shaw understands where it’s coming from, she can’t help but think everyone is being overdramatic. They’re playing against Ravenclaw, for fuck’s sake. The only way this could be easier is if they were playing against Gryffindor but that had been the first game – and victory – of the season. She’s considered telling her team to snap out of it but she does want to win, and upsetting team mates doesn’t seem to be the best course of action in order to achieve that.

She glares at Scarface, urging him to speak a few words of support, but he just comes up with, “If we win this one, we’re one game away from winning the Quidditch Cup”, and if Shaw could roll her eyes any harder, she would have.

“Elias favors his left when defending the goal hoops,” Anna Mueller, their Seeker, intervenes as she catches sight of Shaw’s annoyance. “Jason is their best Chaser and while Claire is pretty good, Caleb is a bit on the slow side.”

Anna will become Hufflepuff’s captain when Scarface finishes school at the end of the year, Shaw is calling it right now.

“Tomas is a great Seeker but he doesn’t pay much attention to the rest of the game,” Fusco adds, wrinkling his face into a mask of concentration.

Shaw snorts at that. She will take great pleasure in sending a Bludger his way.

“We’ll be okay,” Scarface reassures, his eyes fleeting from the door to his players. “We’re good, everyone knows what they have to do.”

At that moment, a red envelope flies inside the locker and falls on one of the benches neatly, making the entire team groan and cover their ears. Alicia elbows Daizo with an expectant look on her face. It’s his turn to open the Howler.

“Time to start the game, everyone!” Hooch’s voice announces, causing all of their heartbeats to reach peak levels despite knowing what was about to come.

“One day we’ll be able to start a Quidditch match with full-functioning hearing,” Fusco whines, shaking his head as if water was stuck in his ears.

Shaw follows him out, making sure the locker door is left closed as they all exit. They meet with Ravenclaw’s team at the entrance to the pitch and it’s only when everybody’s shaking hands before settling on their broomsticks that Shaw notices Jason is missing. There are only six Ravenclaw players in line, so he has to be somewhere. She looks around for him and of course she spots him talking to Root a few feet back.

“Hey, Shaw.” She hears a voice calling her and turns her attention back to the line of Ravenclaw players. It’s Tomas and he has his charming grin directed at her.

“What?” she snaps.

“Is this a good time to ask you to be my date for the prom next week?”

“Yeah, whatever,” she answers, more annoyed at the disruption than interested in what she’d just agreed to. Tomas is a good enough making out partner, he will do.

“It’s a date then,” he says, with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Shaw ignores him and focuses on Jason again. He’s giving Root a one-armed hug goodbye and then he runs to the entrance with a giant smile on his face.

Anger suits her just fine as winning motivation. 

*

The Hufflepuff’s strategy is simple and efficient. Shaw and Scarface have been campaigning to change the “catching the Snitch is worth 150 points” rule for _years_ , to no avail. Their intention isn’t even to change Quidditch’s rules at large, it just isn’t fair to have a single play be worth so much when Quidditch matches in Hogwarts can’t last longer than four hours regardless of the Snitch being caught or not.

Thus, their game tactic was born. It’s not exactly a secret, which is why Shaw has to smirk at the despair of Ravenclaw’s Beaters trying to hold on to the Bludgers long enough to prevent the Hufflepuff Chasers from scoring. Nick Donnelly is the best Chaser in the Hogwarts Cup this year, even better than Carter (as much as that pains Shaw to say), and fifteen minutes in, Hufflepuff is already winning 30 to 0.

If the Snitch is gonna be worth 150 points, it’s only fair that they trick the system by scoring as much and as often as they can.

Jason manages to steal the Quaffle but Shaw won’t let today be his day. With a sharp flight in the opposite direction, she hits a Bludger with her bat, sending it straight to Jason’s broom and causing him to lose aim. Daizo catches the Quaffle easily and soon Scarface is in its possession again, passing the ball to Alicia so she can score.

It’s 40 to nothing and the crowd goes wild. Shaw flies by Jason and winks, and if she takes great satisfaction in the way he huffs and dives for the ball after Elias throws it back into play, it’s because nothing gives her more pleasure than winning.

He does somehow pass the Quaffle to Caleb who throws it to Claire. Shaw yells at Fusco to block them but by the time the Bludger hits Claire’s back, she’d already scored a goal.

Shaw grunts and shadows Alicia as she advances with the Quaffle and throws it at Donnelly. Jason flies in and steals it mid-air, not even bothering to pass it to his team mates. Shaw tries to fly after him to disrupt his moment of glory but it’s too late. He scores and it’s a very well-played move that Shaw has to begrudgingly admire.

Too bad Jason decides to wink at her when he turns around, all complacency and self-assurance. It doesn’t matter that he just did it to spite Shaw for her previous taunt. It doesn’t matter _at all_. That’s the last thing on her mind.

“Oh, it is on, bitch.”

*

It’s almost two hours later, when Hufflepuff is winning 180 to 120, that the Seekers spot the Snitch. As it always is with these things, after an entire match of being mostly useless, Anna and Tomas see it at almost the same time and that causes both Shaw and Fusco to turn their attention to them.

Tomas is closer but that can’t be. They don’t have enough of an advantage to win the game if Ravenclaw catches the Snitch. Fusco signals to Shaw and they fly in opposite directions, each going after a different Bludger. Fusco hits his first and the Bludger zeroes in on Tomas, grazing his left foot and causing him to lose balance.

It’s enough for Anna to fly past him and Shaw can see her hand stretching and curling around the Snitch. That’s 330 to 120. She has the Bludger right there though, and why waste it when Jason is in her line of sight? Shaw swings her bat as hard as she can and watches as the ball hits him right on his conceited face.

Yeah, that’s a broken nose, alright.

She has a well-earned victory to celebrate.

*

It’s past ten when Shaw decides to leave the Hufflepuff Common Room. The party should keep going well into the night and she might even consider coming back. For now, Daizo is celebrating with the rest of the team and she has better things to do.

She walks stealthily through the corridors and staircases, careful to avoid being seen by the Ghosts or by Mrs. Norris, until she reaches the seventh floor, stopping in front of the wall where the door to the secret room had appeared the last time. Shaw touches the wall for a few moments and then drops her hand like it had been burned, exasperated by her own naiveté. The door had puffed out of nowhere and she’s treating the wall as if there’s a lever for a secret passage.

All Shaw remembers is that she’d been pacing back and forth, stressing over following Root, and suddenly the door had popped. She isn’t certain what had triggered that though, so she stands in front of the empty wall and, to her great annoyance, thinks of Root.

The door appears then and Shaw can’t say she is surprised when she opens it and finds Root sitting on her preferred armchair with a laptop on her legs.

Root _does_ look surprised to see her. “Shaw,” she breathes out, pushing the computer to the side and standing up. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Thinking of you is the password to unveil this stupid place? Really?” Shaw deflects, moving closer and crossing her arms. “Didn’t take you for the narcissistic type.”

Root’s demeanor changes at that, and Shaw realizes she’s made a grave mistake. “You were thinking of me?” she asks, her smile open and earnest and her eyes brightening.

“No,” Shaw replies, a little too quickly, “but that’s the only way this dumb door opens.”

“Maybe you were thinking that you _needed_ to be where I was?” Root says, invading her personal space as the brightness in her eyes turns to a crazy glint as it’s bound to do.

Shaw stays quiet, eyes never leaving Root’s, and she runs the secret door scenarios in her head for a few seconds. “The door only appears when you need it, doesn’t it?”

“It appears when you walk past it three times thinking about what you need,” Root corrects, her smile widening. “I wonder what you need me for, Sam.”

Shaw bristles at the familiarity Root’s decided to adopt to address her but remains silent, taking a step back to avoid Root’s boundary troubles.

“How did you buy all this stuff?” she asks, pointing to the servers with her chin. She moves _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_ out of the way with her foot, and scans the room once more. “It has to be worth at least a few thousand dollars.”

Root’s eyes gleam, and Shaw watches as she puts her hands in her jeans’ pockets. She almost appears modest, but Shaw knows better.

“I do a little stealing on the side,” Root eventually shares, her smile stretching like she’s telling Shaw about her studying routine and not confessing to a crime. “Just enough to pay the bills.”

Shaw feels her eyes widen for a second, and hates herself for the display of emotion. It’s not her fault her face seems to find Root impressive.

“You said you were bringing Wi-Fi to Hogwarts.”

“Yes.”

“And that you’re creating a school online platform.”

“Yes.”

“That seems very… selfless.”

“Well, I do need Wi-Fi to keep up with my side business,” Root explains, head tilting with the condescending grin that Shaw absolutely despises.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why are you here?”

“I asked first.”

“I asked second.”

Shaw sighs. Root is impossible and aggravating and she would like to not have points taken from Hufflepuff because she punched Root in the face. “I wanted to call my mother,” Shaw concedes. “The boys are busy with Quidditch celebrations or tears. I hoped you wouldn’t be around either.”

“You knew that we’ve finally managed to get cell reception in the castle?” Root asks, awestruck.

She hadn’t known that even though she’s fine with letting Root believe she had.

“I was aiming for a Skype call, but sure, a phone call works too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” They face each other for a moment, neither willing to give in. “Why are you really doing this?”

Root stares at Shaw for a long time and Shaw isn’t one to back down from a challenge, but Root’s gaze is intense and it’s gone from playful to serious and… sad? Shaw is not sure she’s comfortable with this version of Root.

“I don’t like magic,” Root admits, averting her eyes. “I thought bringing technology to Hogwarts could be a sort of comfort.”

Shaw hums, studying Root with suspicion. There is something else motivating this ridiculously ambitious project but Root is not in the mood to share, and Shaw can respect that.

“Can I get my phone call now or are you just gonna stand there all sullen and pathetic for the rest of the night?”

Root smiles, a surprisingly bashful smile considering this is Root, and hands her an iPhone. She sure treats herself well. Shaw grabs the phone and glares at Root when she realizes the screen is still locked.

“Just draw an R, Sameen,” Root sing-songs, returning to her armchair.

Shaw harrumphs, reassessing her whole take on Root not being a narcissist, and has to grin at the fact that AT&T is the network with working cell reception at Hogwarts. That ought to be a first. Dialing her mom’s number by heart, she moves to the couch on the wall opposite Root and taps her fingers on her leg, waiting.

_“Hello?”_

“Mom? Hi, it’s me.”

 _“Sameen?”_ Mariam’s tone changes from curious to worried in a heartbeat. _“Is everything okay?”_

Shaw winces. It must’ve been a while since they last talked, for her mother’s first instinct to be concern. “Yeah, mom, everything’s good. We won the match today.”

She hears Mariam’s words of excitement and support and while she’s grateful for them, they come second to how overjoyed her mother sounds just to be talking to her. And it doesn’t escape Shaw’s notice that her mother had known exactly what she meant by winning the match. Maybe it’s time she let go of her own feelings about someone new coming into their lives and made an effort to keep in touch more often, like she used to before Christmas. Her mother deserves that.

With a deep breath, she asks, through gritted teeth, “And how is everything with Neil?”

Mariam’s relief can be felt through the phone and Shaw concludes that yeah, her mother’s happiness is more important than Shaw’s need to be loyal to her father, to his role in their lives. He would have wanted them both to be okay.

 

* * *

 

If Shaw has to move another center piece _“just a bit to the left, no right, now a little back… yes! there!”_ , she’ll burn the Great Hall down and Zoe Morgan with it. Sure, the place looks good with its enchanted oak tree at the end of the stage, surrounded by white pixie lights, and its eight-seats round tables with tasteful cream table cloths set around the dance floor. Shaw would be lying if she said the venue isn’t looking much better than she ever thought it could with such a lame prom theme. That doesn’t mean she should be forced into wasting six hours of her day on decoration duty under Zoe’s orders. The only positive thing about this is that the entire Committee is suffering together with her, and she’s been entertaining herself laughing at all the times Zoe has yelled at John for his astounding incompetence. She’s surprised Zoe hasn’t unleashed one of the Unforgivable Curses on him yet.

“Are we done here?” Martine asks, in her dry, disinterested tone that somehow always catches Shaw’s attention. “Dinner is at 7 and I need to get ready.”

Zoe strolls across the room as if they have all the time in the world instead of a lot of stress on their shoulders and a very limited timeframe. Her eyes pause on every single detail and Shaw has to count to ten in her head to avoid a homicide when Zoe fixes a flower vase Shaw had literally just rearranged, following _her_ orders.

She studies every minor detail in the Hall for several minutes and Shaw is at least amused by John’s expression of terror that Zoe may find yet another thing wrong with his side of the room, and by Martine’s expression of murder. It is a wonder they have survived working together since January.

“And the stage?” Zoe asks, after the ominous silence.

“For the fourth time, Zoe,” Martine starts, sugary-sweet through a gritted teeth smile, “the stage is ready for the witch band. They are already at Hogwarts and they know their concert starts at 9.”

“The sound system is set up for the DJ,” John pipes in, happy to demonstrate he’s done something right. “He’ll arrive early to confirm everything is working well, but we did sound checks yesterday and it will be fine.”

“And the music for during dinner?”

“There is a laptop,” Shaw says, not even bothering to hide the eye-roll. “It is plugged in to the sound system. You made the playlist yourself.”

Zoe takes a deep breath, scanning the venue one last time, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Shaw repeats, not daring to hope.

“Let’s go get ready,” Zoe sighs, and then, raising her voice again, “Be back here at 6.30!”

Shaw grabs her backpack and sprints away from there, with John hot on her tracks. They can’t risk Zoe having a last minute request; they’ve been through too much already.

“Listen, John,” Shaw says, once they’re far away from Zoe’s reach, and outside the castle to enjoy some much needed fresh air before they have to go back to hell – and in formal wear, no less. “If she’s gonna be like this for the rest of the night, I’ll end up killing someone.”

“I know,” John sighs. Shaw has to value how accepting he is of her ways. “What do you suggest?”

“I don’t know about you,” Shaw begins, dropping her bag to the floor before opening it to reveal a bottle of whisky with a wink, “but I’m pretty sure that boring-ass punch could use a little something to help us through the night.” She had planned to spike the punch during decoration duty, but Zoe’s hawk-like supervision hadn’t allowed any moments to slip the whisky in the metal bowls.

John smiles, an unrestrained smile that shows his teeth and Shaw has rarely seen, and bends down to read the label. Shaw smirks because it’s _Balvenie_ , which means Neil has good taste and that makes her final act of petty teen rebellion particularly satisfying. “I think you’re right,” he agrees, closing the zipper and handing the backpack back to Shaw. “I’ll work on getting us some rum.”

*

The students are entering the Great Hall, expressions of awe and admiration on their faces, and finding a seat at the round tables. John is shifting uncomfortably next to Shaw, and Martine and Zoe are both looking like goddesses on his other side – and both are side-eyeing the two of them for their less than regal postures on the stage. Shaw fits her Hufflepuff yellow waistband a little tighter and stares at her black stilettos again. She had been practicing walking in them for two weeks before prom but it’s one thing to walk, and quite another to be standing still on a stage for what seems like it will be a whole hour, at this rate.

The students are still filtering inside and the sound of their chattering is drowning the pleasantness of the classical music Zoe had chosen for dinner. There’s not much for Shaw to do but to watch her schoolmates and, sure enough, there comes Daniel with Daizo at his side and behind them comes Jason, with Claire on his arm. They don’t all stay on the same table, which surprises Shaw. The two boys turn left and sit at the table closest to the door, even though there are still seats and tables available closer to the stage. Jason keeps walking and finds a seat together with Caleb, the other Ravenclaw Chaser, and his date – some Gryffindor girl she doesn’t know.

Shaw sees almost every student at Hogwarts entering the Hall and of course Root is conspicuously absent. School events must be a delight when one’s running illegal operations on school grounds. Lots to do in empty hallways and classrooms or whatever.

The teachers and professors are the last to arrive (the show-offs, in their party gowns and robes) and they occupy two of the three tables in the center of the room, giving them an excellent viewpoint to both the stage and the dance floor. The remaining table is for the Committee and their dates.

John elbows her and Shaw steps back to press pause on the laptop’s playlist as Zoe approaches the microphone. She could’ve shouted to the whole room, with some help from a sound enhancing spell, but technology is so much more convenient – and it had been great to see Martine, the only pureblood in the Committee, scowl at the whole concept.

“Good evening, Hogwarts!” Zoe starts, to the cheers of the crowd. “Welcome to the closing event of House Pride Week, our very own Spring Wonderland Prom!” More cheers, to Shaw’s annoyance. The food smells delicious and she’s starving.  “This year’s Pride Week went exceptionally well, with every event’s participation reaching record levels. We would like to thank everyone for attending this Pride and turning it into a huge success!”

The cheers take a while longer to subside this time and Zoe has to make a gesture to appease the crowd. Shaw is keeping track of how many times she’s wanted to roll her eyes ever since she set foot on the stage. So far, the count is six.

“I will let everyone start their meals in a minute, but first…” Zoe turns to the side, and makes eye contact with each of the Committee members. Great. Mushy moments is all Shaw needed to add to her evening. “None of this could have happened without the help of my wonderful Committee friends. Thank you, Martine, for your insightful ideas and your diligence in making sure everything was planned and put together to the tiniest detail.”

Martine takes a step forward and curtsies, an honest smile animating her features, and Shaw makes a point of clapping as loud as she can because yeah, Martine may have the reputation of being a bitch, but she is competent, focused, relentless _and_ entertaining to be around.

“Thank you, John, for being patient and helpful and for trying to follow _most_ of our instructions.” The crowd laughs and John offers an awkward smile, followed by an even more awkward bow, and Shaw smirks.

“Thank you, Shaw, for keeping me in check, for always letting me know when I was pushing it too far and for never once complaining about anything, even if being part of Pride Committee was probably last on your list of priorities.”

The crowd laughs again and Shaw has to grin at that. She spares Zoe a wink before she bows.

“And thank you, Zoe,” Martine says, unexpectedly taking over the microphone,” for being the glue that held us all together. We couldn’t have done it without _you_.”

Zoe has tears brimming in her eyes and Shaw wasn’t made for this. She counts avoided eye-roll number seven and snorts when John whispers to her, “Even though she’s driven us insane all of Pride Week.”

“Thank you, Hogwarts,” Zoe says, her voice cracking. She’s holding on to Martine’s hand and that’s… _unusual_ , to say the least. Maybe Martine has had some punch already. “Enjoy your Prom night and, more importantly, enjoy your Easter Break!”

The four of them step down the stage to thunderous applause and Shaw has to roll her eyes this time, because Zoe and Martine are acting like politicians or superstars, waving to the students and beaming on their way to the Committee table. John trails gracelessly after them, trying not to step on Martine’s long Slytherin-green dress, and Shaw is at the rear, trying hard not to run past the group so she can just sit and start eating.

“You looked very official and composed up there,” Tomas compliments her as she sinks on the chair next to his. “I’m impressed.”

“I can play nice when I want to,” Shaw replies, removing her heels and hiding them under the table. “Now where is that steak I was promised?”

 

~~.~~.~~

 

“Don’t you just love school events?” Root asks, phone in her pocket and one earphone in place. She’s in the empty Slytherin Dungeon, trying to find an appropriate place to keep an extender.

 _“Not really,”_ she hears Daniel’s reply. _“Unless you mean the part where we can get things done for our operation with minimal risks of getting caught.”_

 _“I actually like school events so let’s get this over with,”_ Jason says, some interference on his end of the line. He’s in the Ravenclaw Tower and Daizo is in the Hufflepuff Basement. If all goes well, Wi-Fi will finally be up and running in the entire castle. _“It’s already 8.30 and it’s not polite to leave your prom date waiting at the dinner table.”_

Root laughs and plugs the extender in as she settles it behind one of the dark wood cupboards. She watches the lights blink until they stabilize, “Everything set for Slytherin.”

 _“Ditto for Hufflepuff,”_ Daizo announces.

Jason grunts and huffs and they all hear the sound of furniture being moved aside, _“Stupid fucking couch from hell,”_ he curses, his effort audible. _“My tux better not be ruined over this.”_

 _“Nobody told you to wear your leisure clothes to work,”_ Daniel mocks, tapping away on the keyboard. They’d decided he was the best pick to stay back at the Room of Requirement supervising the mission.

_“Shut it, Danny, we’re all dressed up already!”_

“Not me,” Root interrupts. “How much longer?”

_“Done.”_

_“Okay, guys, just give me a minute.”_

The line goes silent, except for the sounds of their breathing and of Daniel’s clicks on the mouse. Root unlocks her phone and her thumb hovers over the Settings button.

_“Alright, Wi-Fi is on and working in our headquarters. How’s the signal over there?”_

_“Holy shit, it works!”_ Jason declares, annoyance over his current predicament already forgotten.

Root sees a notification and, sure enough, Daizo just emailed her a photo of himself with a megawatt smile, his fingers stretched in a victory sign. Someone needs to invent more practical ways of chatting and sharing photos online while on the phone. Maybe they could design something for that purpose… “Nah, we have free texts already.”

 _“What?”_ Daniel says, a little breathless. _“Is it not working for you, Root?”_

Root stifles a laugh. She hadn’t realized she had spoken out loud. “Everything is perfect, Danny, don’t worry. Great job, boys.” She pulls out her wand and points it at the extender. “Now for the real challenge… Ready to perform that Invisibility Charm?”

 _“Yes, ma’am,”_ Jason answers. _“Here goes.”_

There’s a muffling of sounds on the line as they all pronounce their spell words and then absolute quiet takes over.

 _“So?”_ Daniel prods gently, after a minute. _“All good still in headquarters. What’s the status over there?”_

“It works,” Root says, tears of joy filling up her eyes. “It works! Magic didn’t interfere with the function of the devices!”

 _“Fucking finally!”_ Jason pretty much shouts and Root can imagine him fistbumping the air. _“It’s the fourth time we try to have Wi-Fi all over the castle instead of just in the bloody Room of Requirement.”_

 _“We’re heroes of the modern times,”_ Daniel jokes. _“Are we reinstalling more extenders tonight or are we good to go?”_

_“I’m going to prom now, sorry. There’s only so much waiting Claire can do before she dumps me for the evening.”_

_“You two dating?”_ Daizo asks, curious. _“I can go install an extender in the Herbology tower, if we have the time. Better now when everyone’s busy.”_

 _“Root wanted to go to prom by herself and Claire didn’t have a date so here we are,”_ Jason explains, and it’s obvious he’s smirking from his voice intonation.

“I’ll let you have a dance, Jason,” Root teases, her tone almost a leer. “Don’t be so uptight.”

_“I’m hanging up now.”_

“Bye, Jason,” Root sing-songs, one second before his call ends. “I’ll install a couple more, maybe in the library and in one of Slytherin’s corridors.”

 _“Alright. Is one hour enough?”_ Daniel shuffles wherever he’s sitting, and Root hums in response, already walking towards her dorm room. It’s a huge risk to set up an extender in a room shared with Martine will-hunt-you-down-and-kill-you Rousseau and Kara enjoys-the-suffering-of-students Stanton, but Root deserves the best Wi-Fi in all of Slytherin’s quarters. There’s a socket behind her bed anyway, so that should be enough to cover her tracks, together with the Invisibility Charm.

“What time is your gig?”

_“It starts at 11, but I have to be in the Great Hall around 10 or Zoe Morgan will kill me.”_

_“We’ll be long done by then,”_ Daizo assures, and Root doesn’t say anything, because she doesn’t have to.

 

~~.~~.~~

 

It is a mere coincidence that Shaw is facing the Great Hall entrance when Root walks in, a few minutes before the clock marks eleven. She’s standing by the long table against the wall, the one with all the beverages, snacks and desserts for people to enjoy after dinner; and she has her back to the now empty stage so the entrance is right ahead of her. Shaw almost spits out the punch she had just sipped – a consequence of her current slightly-buzzed state, no doubt, – because Root, well…

_Root is wearing a tux._

Root is wearing a perfectly-fitted black tux and her hair is falling down to the left side of her face in a simple hair-do, stuck there by pins. She’s not wearing a tie or a bowtie, just a white shirt unbuttoned enough to reveal cleavage, and there’s a purple flower in her breast pocket. She seems taller than usual, so that means high heels and Shaw definitely did _not_ ask for this in her life.

She also didn’t ask for Root to spot her staring as she enters but that’s what happens. Root being Root, she smirks, aware of what she’s doing and of her effect on Shaw at that moment, and proceeds to stride with confidence to the stage. Daniel jumps down and hugs her and they smile at each other for an unreasonable amount of time. Root squeezes his arm and he goes back on the stage, where he says a few quick words on the mic, presses play on his laptop and then Britney Spears starts asking someone if they want a piece of her in song form.

Shaw had been all for Zoe’s idea of having Muggle music at prom for once, but this is too much. The crowd begs to differ as everyone starts dancing, but then again, crowds have never been known for their wit. Or maybe the punch is getting to them too.

She gulps down her drink, pours herself another glass and moves back to her table to sit next to Tomas and enjoy the rewards of a job well-done via watching her fellow students having fun. Root spends most of her time talking to Claire and Jason, the three of them standing on the side of the dancefloor. Not that Shaw is paying any attention to that or anything.

Some slow song Shaw recognizes as one of Taylor Swift’s spawns starts playing, which prompts Root to face Jason, extend her hand and ask him for a dance. Shaw scoffs and swallows another gulp of her punch. Toned-down whisky just isn’t cutting it for her current needs anymore.

“Wanna dance?” Tomas asks her, with a playful smile.

Shaw shrugs and stands up. Might as well.

 

~~.~~.~~

 

Root is barely listening to the song playing and her efforts to follow Jason’s lead are half-hearted at best. She’s too busy ogling Shaw and throwing heart eyes her way. It’s very amusing that Shaw’s expression conveys nothing but annoyance and yet she keeps meeting Root’s gaze at every opportunity. It’s a staring contest if Root’s ever lived through one, and she’s loving every second of it.

The song ends – and Root is somewhat relieved it does, that thing was unimaginative at best – and Daniel goes back to playing dance music. Shaw releases herself from Tomas’s grip and Root watches as she walks to her table to finish her drink and then opens the Great Hall’s glass door to go outside.

Root decides to follow. A porch isn’t as romantic as a balcony, but Root isn’t picky – not when the porch is so nicely decorated anyway. She stops by the dessert table to pour two glasses of punch and leaves the Great Hall through the same door Shaw had just passed through.

Shaw is standing by the wall between two of the tall windows, safely away from the group of people gathered on the other side, and she greets Root with an eye-roll, “What are you doing here?”

Root ignores the question and extends Shaw a glass, taking the time to appraise her simple black dress – with a mid-thigh cut – from head to toe, “I really like the new look.”

“I could stab you with my stiletto,” Shaw snarls, but accepts the drink extended to her. “Enough already.”

Root grins and tastes the punch, wincing as it warms her throat more than expected. “A little spike, Sam?”

Shaw lifts an eyebrow and stays silent. Root smirks. Adding a little illegal fun to a dull party is something she can trust Shaw to do. “Great Hall looks a lot better than I thought it would after I saw your helper monkey’s poster.”

_“You saw that?”_

“We crossed paths in the hallway.”

“Ugh.”

Root laughs. Shaw physically expressing exasperation, disgust or frustration is always endearing to her. She places her glass on the nearest table and takes a step closer to Shaw, who keeps her back glued to the wall, glaring at Root as she always does when her personal bubble is being invaded. Root feels emboldened by the lack of opposing reaction and comes even closer. She’s so close she can smell the alcohol on Sameen’s breath and her eyes flicker to her mouth. It would be so easy to just lean down and… _kiss_ her.

Shaw locks eyes with her, drops her gaze to Root’s lips, fixes her eyes again. There’s a moment, a moment so infinite Root allows herself to hope, so large it encompasses a dozen simulations in Root’s head where Shaw chooses to close that gap. A moment when the warmth in her chest reaches her eyes and she knows Shaw can see it for what it is, can see _her_.

And then Shaw shoves her away and walks back inside, taking Root’s glass of punch with her.

Root releases the breath she’d been holding and stares at Shaw’s retreating form, appreciates her toned legs. Girl sure knows how to walk in heels. And she has such a great shape.

Root smiles.

Maybe someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please appreciate [thedorkone](http://thedorkone.tumblr.com)'s ugly poster because it took her A LOT OF WORK to do something less than pretty since she's one of the most talented souls I know <3
> 
> as usual, if this chapter doesn't suck, it's because my beta, PhoenixTat, is fantastic and wonderful and I love her. thank you!


	6. the one with the unnecessary risks (that piss everyone off but Root insists are needed)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you thank you thank you to my lovely beta PhoenixTat for being too wonderful for words <3
> 
> also, there's a lot of extra notes at the end coz i'm a nerd and i may have had to twist facts to fit this story, but i want you guys to know the truth :P

Root closes the window and checks the street outside before lowering the blinds. As much as she despises Hogwarts, at least it doesn’t get to 81º F in New York, in _March_. She takes her jeans off and throws them on the bed, next to her laptop. It’s too hot to be wearing pants.

Her PC is running codes on the desk and she studies her main screen, adjusting her glasses as she looks for mistakes. Jason and Daniel are chattering away on Skype in the background.

_“Root?”_

“Yes?” she replies, turning her attention back to the laptop. “Can’t a girl multitask without being missed?”

_“No,”_ Jason deadpans, ruffling papers and shouting something to whoever had talked to him. There’s always noise from his end of the calls. _“I think we have everything we need to prepare during our vacation.”_

Root hums, staring at his Skype picture which is still of him and his dog with Santa hats. It’s kinda cute. “Have you split all the tasks?” She opens her _Hogwarts XXI_ document, where she has outlined everything they’ve achieved at school and what has yet to be done.

_“Yep,”_ Daniel replies. _“I’ll talk to Daizo when he gets to Japan to bring him up to date.”_

_“And you, Root?”_ Jason asks, his dog breathing down the microphone.

_“Get Gizmo away from the mic, Jason, it’s freaking me out.”_

Jason sounds like he’s moving and his dog whimpers. _“Hey, Tim! Take Gizmo away from my room, please?”_

“Say hi to your brother,” Root says, with a smile they can’t see. “I’ll work on getting us those phones.”

_“Are you sure?”_ Daniel asks, concern lacing his voice. _“It’s very risky, Root.”_

“Where would the fun be otherwise?” Root shoots back, tilting her head with a smirk.

_“Of course.”_ Root can imagine Daniel rolling his eyes. _“If it’s dangerous, it enters your definition of fun.”_

“You know me so well.”

“Root, _mija_?”

_“Is that your mom?”_ Daniel asks. _“She calls you Root too?”_

Root turns and sees her mom’s nurse opening the door slightly, peaking but not quite venturing into her quarters. “One moment, Leticia. I’ll be right out.” She waits for the woman to leave before addressing the boys again, “Okay, I have to go. If possible, can you spread the rumor that you’ve heard Hogwarts is getting Wi-Fi? But make sure you’re safe, do it anonymously if need be. We don’t want potential future suspicions to lead back to us.”

_“Will do.”_

 “Any requests for the smartphones?”

_“If you can get your hands on a Blackberry Bold 9000, I want one,”_ Jason says.

“A Blackberry,” Root drawls derisively, tapping on the edge of the keyboard with her fingernails. “How old-fashioned.”

_“I like Blackberries.”_

_“I’m happy with my iPhone, thanks,”_ Daniel cuts. _“Talk again in three days? With Daizo?”_

“You can text whenever you want, Danny, I don’t mind hearing from you,” Root teases. “Let’s make it four days, give Jason some extra procrastination time.”

_“You’re the worst, Root.”_

“Kiss kiss to you too.”

_“Bye, Root. Bye, Jason.”_

“Bye, kids,” Root sing-songs, exiting the call before hearing their replies. She closes the laptop and joins Leticia outside her room.

“I’m leaving now, Root,” the nurse announces, a slight inclination of her head. “I’ll come back on Wednesday. Anything else I can do?”

“No, thank you, Leticia,” Root says, walking with her to the front door. “I’ll call you if I need assistance.”

Root smiles politely as she waves the nurse goodbye and tiptoes to the living room, uncertain if her mother will be asleep. She isn’t. She’s watching _The Real Housewives of Orange County_ , a blanket on her legs despite the heat.

“How are you feeling?” Root asks, taking a seat on the couch next to her mother’s preferred armchair. Sometimes Root thinks a love of armchairs is all they have in common.

“I’m fine, Sam, you know I haven’t had any relapses in months.”

Root also knows Huntington’s has been slowly but surely declining her mother’s neurological abilities and functions so she refrains from reminding her to call her Root. “That’s good. What do you want for dinner?”

“You can order Chinese later if you want. I haven’t had that in a while.” Alyssa Groves lowers the volume of the TV and studies her daughter for a moment. “A package came for you today, with the post. I left it on top of the dining table.”

“Oh?” Root stands and moves to the table, unwrapping the package with short, blunt motions.

“What is it?” Alyssa is eying her with the mix of pride and suspicion that had lingered ever since they’d found out Root was a witch. It had gotten worse when their money problems vanished, displays of affection now always surfacing laced with wonder and morbid curiosity. But her mother would never dare question her about that because _that_ has made their lives a lot easier, and ignorance is a blessing. Root has no idea what her mom would be more shocked about – that half the money comes from her estranged father’s fortune, or that the other half comes from Root wrecking online havoc in people’s lives for a price.

“Just a book I ordered. Someone at school recommended it,” she lies smoothly. It’s her annual copy of _Flowers for Argenon_. She’ll need to arrange to have it sent to Mrs. Russell on April 15 since she will be back at Hogwarts by then.

Alyssa watches as Root approaches to sit beside her again, setting the book down on the coffee table ahead of them. Her eyes narrow as she notices the title, “We have this book.”

“We do?” Root grabs the remote and raises the volume again. She doesn’t dislike this show. “My bad then.”

She feels her mom staring for a few moments longer and chooses to ignore it until they’re both focused on the screen.

Root will never know if her mother allows her to pretend she is only a regular girl or if everything she is just flies under her radar.

(somehow, Root really doubts that last option.)

 

* * *

 

Root is standing inside McGonagall’s office, phone in her back pocket and the left earbud in place, the other falling to her shoulder. She had allowed the boys to steal some of the student records during the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match but it’s usually her job to break into the Headmistress’s study, be it to steal something or return something to its rightful place.

It had taken them a week since coming back to Hogwarts to finish transferring the remaining information to their system and the sooner the documents are returned and all traces of their operation are gone from McGonagall’s office, the better. Root may enjoy danger and risk, but this particular brand of mischief causes her more stress than pleasure.

_“Shit shit shit shit.”_ It doesn’t take a genius to understand something isn’t going according to plan. Root had never heard Daizo curse outside of Quidditch. _“McGonagall is heading back.”_

Root’s heart starts hammering in her chest and she wills herself to calm down, forces out deep breaths until she can think again.

_“There’s no time, Root,”_ Jason warns her in a whisper, from his vantage point outside the Headmistress’s hallway. _“Stay put.”_

She shoves the remaining parchments in one of the shelves where the records are kept, mutters a few words to free them from the invisibility spell and prays that none of the portraits were paying attention to that area of the office. She then takes a seat on the armrest of the couch by the door so her weight on the couch cushions doesn’t give her away. If she has to be stuck in there, might as well be as comfortable as possible.

McGonagall passes by her in a whoosh of sound and movement, letting the door slam behind her and settles behind her desk.

Root sighs and ends the call. This could take a while.

*

*

*

*

Root really shouldn’t be surprised she only manages to flee the office when McGonagall leaves to get dinner in the Great Hall, her phone holding on to its last breath after all the useless Google searches she’d done at 9% battery. Setbacks and missions going haywire are to be expected in their line of work.

She tiptoes behind the Headmistress until she slides next to the statue where Jason is still waiting for her, and as McGonagall’s steps fade away into the distance, they both break out of the spell and turn visible in a fit of giggles.

“It’s about time, Root. I’m fucking starving.”

Root punches his shoulder lightly and then gives him a hug, which he returns with a laugh.

Everything went well, everything is ready. They can finally give students access to Wi-Fi through their Hogwarts network.

This is _it_.

 

* * *

 

Root is sitting on one of the couches in the All-House Common Room, watching as the group of Muggle-borns gathered around the table click away furiously through their little video game screens. She doesn’t even know what game they’re playing nor does she care to know. She hasn’t paid attention to videogames for a long time, not since Hanna. What she does care about is that this little competition has managed to get a reasonable amount of people to bring their laptops to Hogwarts, and thus classifies as a success for their mission.

She observes Daniel supervising the whole thing, looking very professional with his clipboard, and she chuckles when she notices Daizo’s intense expression while playing.

“What’s with all the nerds playing with their computers over there?” Shaw asks, plopping down next to her on the couch. Root’s heart skips a beat, out of surprise and also maybe a little because it always does when Shaw is around. “Did you have anything to do with that?”

“Why, Sameen, you want to join the competition?” she retorts, with a smirk. “You could have said so, I would’ve saved you a space.”

“No, thanks. I hate video games,” Shaw says, eyes focused on the group of players. “Are they online?”

“You could technically play online or offline, but yes, sweetie, they are online.”

Shaw grits her teeth but doesn’t try to murder her, so Root takes it as a hint that Shaw enjoys pet names.

“Access through your Hogwarts portal?”

“Ready to be used by each and every student and teacher,” Root announces, eyes sparkling and a million-dollar smile. “Not that teachers here are acquainted with the concept of progress, but you know. It’s the thought that counts.”

“So that’s it?” Shaw turns her attention to Root, appearing thoroughly unmoved. Root’s smile falters. “All that work to bring Wi-Fi to a dozen gamers.”

Root leans forward then, stops a few inches away from Shaw’s face, “I’m so glad you said that.” Shaw arches an eyebrow, doesn’t move. Root stares. She doesn’t have that many opportunities to be close to Shaw.

“I’m waiting, Root.” Shaw rolls her eyes.

“For what?”

“For you to stop staring,” she deadpans. “And also for you to get on with it and tell me what you want me to do.”

Root grins. “How did you know I had a job for you?”

“I didn’t but now I do.” Shaw crosses her arms over her chest, looking proud of herself. “What is it?”

“Could you be so kind  as to fly me to Dufftown to get a few more packages?”

“And what’s in it for me?” Shaw is narrowing her eyes, suspicious as ever, and this is the most entertained Root’s felt since exploring McGonagall’s office invisible while the Headmistress was there.

“I got a brand new iPhone I could give you.” Root purposefully brings a lilt to her voice, and is way too happy when Shaw’s expression changes. The girl seems baffled and Root is much too pleased at herself for making that happen.

“What?”

“I got a brand new iPhone I could give you,” Root repeats, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Shaw scowls, an adorable look of puzzlement adorning her features, and stays silent for a few moments until a flash of understanding crosses her eyes. “You’re smuggling smartphones into Hogwarts!” she accuses, stabbing Root’s chest with her finger.

“I am.”

“What?!”

“What?”

“ _Root._ ”

“What?” Root shrugs. “People need to access Wi-Fi somehow.”

“Are you selling the phones?” Shaw purses her lips. Root can see she’s both annoyed and intrigued. "How do you expect teenagers to afford paying several hundred dollars?”

“I won’t charge them very much,” Root confides, wrinkling her nose for good measure. “They didn’t cost me much either.”

“Unbelievable.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were impressed.”

Shaw scoffs, returning her gaze to the video game competition. “When do these packages need to be picked up?”

“Tonight after curfew.”

“What a surprise.” Shaw rolls her eyes and stands up.

“Why break only one rule when we can break more?”

Root swears she sees Shaw’s lips curling up in a small smile before she starts heading out of the Common Room, “Hit me up with one of those parchment messages when it’s time.”

*

“Shaw, this is Logan Pierce.” Root is still trying to fix her hair even though they’d landed and left the broomstick behind ten minutes ago. She decides her efforts aren’t yielding any results and ties it up. “He’s my contact in Dufftown.”

Logan eyes Shaw wearily, “Nice to meet you.” He nods and Shaw repeats the gesture.

“If Shaw ever shows up by herself, you can leave whatever packages with her.” Shaw glares at her, but Root ignores it. “Now can I see my pretties?”

Logan laughs and signals for them to follow him inside the house, flashlight in hand. It’s an old abandoned building, there are humidity stains on the walls and maybe even one or two blood splatters on the floor, and the furniture is half-destroyed and scattered illogically throughout the rooms. There’s no electricity, just a few oil lamps to light the way. Logan doesn’t live here, it’s just a meeting place but Shaw doesn’t know that and she is clenching her fists. Root finds herself moved by her discomfort.

Logan stops at what appears to be a kitchen and points his flashlight at the boxes on one of the counters. “That’s twenty iPhones and ten Blackberries.”

Root turns on her phone’s flashlight and inspects the boxes while Shaw stays behind next to Logan. They’re all in good condition and the numbers correspond to what Logan had told her. He’s reliable and has always come through with whatever they needed in their operation, but Root likes to check and he doesn’t mind.

“Thank you, Logan.” She starts putting the boxes inside her satchel and Shaw joins her, throwing the phones haphazardly into her own backpack.

“Always a pleasure doing business with ya.”

Root winks at him and opens Safari on her phone to access one of her online accounts, “The second half of the payment should be with you soon.”

“Awesome. I’m gonna bolt now. Let me know when you need my services again.”

“I will,” Root says to his retreating form before turning to face Shaw. “Alright, Sameen. Let’s get out of here.”

 

* * *

 

Jason breaks out of the Invisibility Spell as soon as he’s inside of Root’s dorm room.

“I still don’t get why I have to be the one doing this,” he whines, and Root hands him the flask of Polyjuice Potion. She points him towards the bathroom and closes the door behind him to give him privacy.

She waits a respectable amount of time before saying, “You’re right. I probably should be the one doing it in this case.” Except she hates the transformation process and there’s no way she’ll put herself through that again if she can avoid it.

“Ugh, Root,” Jason groans, and Root hears something snap. Probably a bone. “Why do I put up with you?”

“Because you love me,” she replies, shimmying even though he can’t see it.

“I do _not_ ,” he harrumphs, blasting the door open with a towel covering the front of his new body. “At least not right now, I don’t.”

Root eyes him with a smirk.

“Stop checking me out, you perv!” He crosses the room to the wardrobe area and Root laughs because it’s such a _boy_ thing to do, to forget to cover their ass. “Where are Martine’s dumb clothes?”

“On my bed,” she indicates, entering the bathroom to shove Jason’s things into her backpack.

“Out, out,” Jason-as-Martine orders to Root’s delight. If real Martine was this fun, Root could potentially have a problem. “I need to change.”

“Can I watch?”

Jason-as-Martine stares at her, dumbfounded for a moment, and then pushes her out of the bathroom and slams the door shut. “Ew!”

Root laughs and goes to sit on her bed – this is as good a time as any to file her nails. She hears a lock turning and she looks up to see that Jason still hasn’t gotten out of the bathroom.

“Home so early, Sammy?”

Root’s eyes widen and of course Jason-as-Martine has to choose that moment to burst out of the bathroom, “Root –“ His jaw drops and his hands fall to his sides. “Shit.”

“Who is that?” the real Martine asks, too calmly for Root to feel comfortable.

“That’s Joss,” Root answers in the same tone, disregarding the way her heart is pounding inside her chest. Jason shoots her a look but Root ignores him. It’s weird to see such a Jason expression on Martine’s face. “I thought you had classes all afternoon?”

“Professor Flitwick let us leave early to prepare for N.E.W.T.s,” Martine explains, setting her bag down by her bed. “Couldn’t you have practiced your Polyjuice Potion skills elsewhere?” She approaches Jason and studies him from head to toe in a slow appraising motion. It’s creepy, but it’s also hotter than Root is willing to admit. “Did you have to bring a Gryffindor into Slytherin’s quarters?”

Root almost apologizes. _Almost_. She shrugs instead, a shameless smile tilting up the corners of her lips. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”

“We were about to leave anyway, the potion is almost wearing off,” Jason lies, brushing past Martine to grab the backpack Root is extending him. “I’m sorry we, uh, used your hair and impersonated you. We were studying and it was convenient.”

Root snorts. Yeah, Martine selling a Blackberry to the one Muggle-born Slytherin is convenient, alright.

Martine hums in response, an amused _evil_ glint in her eyes.

“If you wanted to see me naked, Root, you just had to ask.”

Jason trips on his way out as he hears Martine’s words and Root just stares at her, heart beating wildly again. Martine winks and Root hates herself because she feels her cheeks flushing.

“I might take you up on that offer,” she stammers before leaving.

It’s a weak attempt at bantering and they both know Martine has won this round.

 

* * *

 

Root scrunches up her nose in disgust at the bowl of hairy caterpillars on her Potions table and Carter laughs.

“It’s just a bug, Root, it’s not gonna hurt you.”

“It’s…” Root takes a deep breath, and places her phone and her books down on the corner of the work table, safely away from the Shrinking Solution’s ingredients, “… ugly,” she finishes lamely.

Carter smiles and Root feels a little bit better. She knows she isn’t Carter’s favorite person, but they get along well enough as Potions partners. “Are we following the _Book of Potions_ ’ recipe or is Professor Dominic in one of his Snape moods again?”

Root reads the labels of the available ingredients and checks her notes, “ _Book of Potions_ , it seems.”

“Okay. Can you leave your notebook on the middle, please?” Root’s eyes widen at the request and Carter shrugs, amused, “I forgot mine in the dorms.”

Root pushes the book to the middle and watches as Carter sets the cauldron over the wizard-equivalent of a Bunsen burner, which is still shut off. She juices two Shrivelfigs into it and, as Carter starts stirring, Root mouths the spell to light on the burner.

“The daisy roots are on this side,” Carter tells her, nodding to the exact location. “Chop four, please.”

Root’s phone chimes and she chuckles when she sees Daizo had sent her a picture of what looks like Jason and Daniel arguing via MMS.

“You got one of those too?” Carter asks, her jaw tense, gaze fixed on the cauldron.

Root turns off the screen and chops the daisy roots, adding the slices to the potion one at a time. “I’ve always had a phone. Don’t you have one? You’re half-blood.”

Carter winces at the term and Root realizes it might have been a wrong thing to say. She doesn’t apologize. She’s half-blood too. “I’ve never bothered bringing it. There’s no service at Hogwarts.”

“There’s AT&T now,” Root says, picking up one of the hairy caterpillars with a pair of tongs. “And Wi-Fi, finally.”

Carter arches one perfectly sculpted, very suspicious eyebrow, studying her from the corner of her eye. “Is that why everyone seems to be walking around with phones these days?”

“Can we switch?” Root interrupts, annoyed at how the bug appears to be fighting the tongs and has grazed her fingers _twice_. “This isn’t working.”

Carter sighs and seizes the tongs, taking a step to the side as Root passes behind her. “Thanks. Apparently, the school’s website gives you the link to a phone store.”

“It does, huh?” Carter hums. “And I don’t suppose you have anything to do with that?”

“Not really?” Root offers, grimacing at the cauldron. “Isn’t this animal cruelty? I’m pretty certain this poor creature just died.”

“Ain’t much in the way of ethics in the wizard world,” Carter says, pursing her lips. She drops another caterpillar to the mix. “So if a person wants in on this whole Wi-Fi business how is she supposed to go about it?”

Root glances at her partner, studying her serious expression. Carter is incredibly perceptive and, although Root’s instinct is to give her the benefit of the doubt because Shaw _likes_ this girl and Shaw has good taste in people, she knows Carter plays by the rules and she doesn’t want to get herself or the boys in trouble over their operation being unveiled.

On the other hand, so far only Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs are walking around with laptops and smartphones. It’s good business to let Gryffindors in on the action.

“Grab my phone, Joss.” Carter looks at her funny as soon as the words leave her mouth, but does as she’s told. They don’t call each other by name much. “Draw an R on the lock screen and then connect to the only Wi-Fi option that comes up. As soon as you do, you’ll be directed to the school portal and you have to register to actually have access to the internet.”

“No way I’m leaving my session logged in on your phone, Root,” Carter warns, as she fills out the form with her student information.

“Wasn’t fishing for it.”

“Okay, so this is actually my own, personalized portal?” Carter sounds surprised. “It has my student records, my timetable and my N.E.W.T.’s schedule. Who gave IT nerds access to Hogwarts?”

Root shrugs, “When you’re on the portal, you should be able to find the link to the store.”

“How are people paying for this?” Carter asks, browsing through the website with one hand while throwing the last caterpillar into their concoction. “And what kind of store is this? It only has two phones! _And they only cost 24 Galleons?_!” Carter widens her eyes at the screen. “Is this a joke?”

“I don’t know,” Root replies, reaching for the jar of wormwood. “I brought my phone from back home, remember? Maybe Hogwarts made some cheap deal with a store and that’s the phones they have in stock?”

“I’ll put in a request for an iPhone, see what happens.”

“You’ll have to log back in another time to check if your request has gone through.”

“When do we have Potions again?” Carter crinkles her nose, reading the next step in their task. “We have to juice leeches? For real?”

“My favorite class,” Root snarks, with a grimace. “You can come look for me when you want to check for your iPhone. Or you can wait until Thursday when we have Potions again.”

“I’ll do that,” Carter says, putting gloves on so she can compress a leech. “Hey, at least we don’t have to kill these ones.”

“Yeah, we just have to squeeze them dry.”

Carter snorts, “Shut up, Root.”

*

Root sees Shaw walking into the Room of Requirement and closing the door behind her, broomstick in hand and backpack perched over her shoulder, but she doesn’t acknowledge her presence. Her boys are ganging up on her so she has more prominent concerns.

“What do you mean you gave Carter your phone for her to register in our portal?” Daniel is asking when Shaw comes closer. They all ignore her. “Joss Carter? The Gryffindor Quidditch captain Joss Carter?”

“Carter, Root?”

_Et tu Daizo?_

“What were you thinking?” Jason is making a visible effort not to yell and Root cringes. “Wasn’t Martine catching us red-handed enough danger for you this month?”

“She was the first Gryffindor to ask about it,” she explains, unusually subdued. “The plan is to give _everyone_ access to Wi-Fi, not just Muggle-borns from your Houses.”

“She is a _Prefect_ , Root!” Jason snarls, hands wide open in front of his torso. “She’s never done anything wrong in her life!”

“How does that pose a problem to our operation?”

“We’ve been selling the phones by pretending we’re other students,” Daniel replies, rolling his eyes. “You can’t exactly go give _Joss Carter_ an iPhone while Polyjuiced as a random sixth year.”

Daizo nods. “She’ll realize it’s not official school business.”

“And it’s not like house elves have hair so we can escape out of this that way.”

Root glares at Jason, swatting his hands away. She doesn’t appreciate being gesticulated at.

“Look, she just put in the request this morning, okay?” Root sighs and tilts her head, moving her hair away from her face. Her eyes meet Shaw’s but she averts them quickly. “We can use a different system with her. I can go to Hogsmeade and have the phone posted to her from there.”

“And she just gets an iPhone for free?” Daniel makes a face, the one he gets when he thinks she’s being ridiculous, with the lifted eyebrow and the mouth pulled to just one corner. “I thought we had agreed to benefit from this. Smartphones _are_ incredibly expensive.”

“Not to mention this clever idea can get us all expelled,” Jason quips. “Or worse – killed.”

“Don’t you misquote Hermione Granger at me, Jason Greenfield,” Root says, aggravated. “Will you guys relax?”

“Can we get Carter to give us the details to her Gringotts account?” Daizo butts in.

“We can,” Root concedes, after a moment of hesitation.

“But wouldn’t we need some sort of official receipt so we can withdraw the money from Gringotts?” Jason ponders, crossing his arms. “I doubt a wizard bank is up to date with online transfers.”

“You mean, like a check?” Daniel furrows his brow. “Even if we got Carter to write a check it can’t be addressed to us so we’d never be able to get the money.”

“Is it only owls that deliver the post to Hogwarts?” Daizo tries again, aiming for a different angle.

“No,” Shaw finally speaks. “For bigger packages, they can have wizards coming in. Or if a payment needs to be made for the package to reach its receiver.”

Root blinks, not believing what she’s hearing, and the boys turn to Shaw like they’d just noticed she’s there.

“How did we not know this?” Daniel is awestruck. Root finds it endearing that none of them bat an eye at Shaw’s presence among them anymore. Making her their courier had been a good idea.

“We’re all Muggle-borns?” Jason offers, with a shrug. “I’ve never set foot on the school’s postal service area.”

“Yeah, I’ve never received any post either,” Daniel shares, and Daizo nods in agreement. “If we pull this off with Carter, we should probably start selling the phones this way. It’s a lot safer and it’s also easier to get people to give you money when you look like you’re providing a service instead of a smuggler.”

Root chuckles, eyes twinkling. She much prefers solutions to problems.

“So who are we voodooing to become our mailman?”

“Logan?” Shaw suggests, staring at them like they’re all dumb. “He’s still in Dufftown. I can text him and go back there now.”

“And what? Ask him to donate his hair for science?” Jason snickers, and Root has to hide her amusement at the way Shaw narrows her eyes at him.

Jason and Shaw might be co-workers now, but they’d never gotten over their animosity. Shaw blames it on Quidditch, but whenever the subject comes up Jason focuses on Root mouthing _‘jealousy’_ , and Shaw hates him even more.

“Do we still have magic if we’re Polyjuiced as a Muggle?” Daniel wonders.

“A problem for another day,” Root intervenes, ending the discussion. “Text him, Sameen. And Jason, go to Dufftown with her. You might need magic for this, and she’s only sixteen.”

“I don’t need _him_ to help me,” Shaw growls. Jason doesn’t seem too pleased either.

“Just go, guys,” Daniel sighs, falling on the couch behind him. “It’s not a big deal.”

Root joins him, pulling Daizo down with her and making shooing motions with her hands to Jason and Shaw.

“We’ll wait here.”

*

“They’re right, you know?”

It’s 2 AM, Root is exhausted and in need of sleep, and waiting for Jason and Shaw to return from Dufftown hadn’t done her any favors. She shifts the three phones and chargers she’s carrying from one hand to another and stares at Shaw with a frown. The girl is not looking at her, eyes intent on the floor of the hallway they’re passing through.

“What do you mean?”

“Your Nerd Squad,” Shaw mutters, sounding annoyed. “Getting Carter to order a phone was a stupid move.”

Root feels the apprehension settling in her chest and takes a deep breath, “I would say it was a bold move.”

“Boldly stupid, yeah,” Shaw scoffs, pulling her robe around her so only her head and her feet can be seen out of it. Root doesn’t know why she has her robe when she’s not wearing the uniform underneath and she’d left her broomstick in the Room of Requirement but she doesn’t voice her question.

“We have a goal, Sameen.” Root shakes her head and picks up speed. She’s tired. Too tired for this. “I’m doing all of this to reach it.”

Shaw grips her by the elbow and Root startles when a cat runs across the hallway and stops in front of them, tail hitting the floor and a soft meow coming out of its mouth.

“Mrs. Norris,” Shaw hisses, pushing Root against the wall.

Root gasps, her breath coming out of her lungs against her will due to the force of the hit, and as she’s taking a hand to where her head had bumped the wall, she feels Shaw’s lips on hers and Shaw’s fingers pulling at her wrists. They’re removing the phones and chargers away from Root’s grasp and hiding them somewhere inside her robe.

Guess that’s why she’d taken her robe then. Root can appreciate someone who thinks ahead.

And she definitely _can_ appreciate that Shaw is kissing her.

_Shaw is kissing her._

It’s all lip bites and forceful tongue shoves and hands holding on too tightly for it to not be painful. Frankly, it’s kind of a mess.

Root loves every second of it.

“My my my…” They hear the familiar voice too close for comfort and Shaw jumps back, cheeks reddened. “What do we have here?”

Root can’t find the ability to speak, still flustered with what had just transpired, and she fixes her gaze on Shaw. She’s aware there’s a smitten smile on her face but she’s beyond caring at this point.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Filch,” Shaw grunts, looking the opposite of sorry. “We were just –”

“Spending time together after curfew?” he asks, picking up Mrs. Norris and petting her at an excruciatingly slow pace. He’s good at playing the part of evil mastermind, Root will give him that.

“Well,” Shaw starts, chest puffed up and eyes darting everywhere as if the walls can provide her with an adequate comeback. “Yeah,” she finally relents, with a huff.

It _is_ better to be caught making out than walking around with smuggled gadgets after all.

“Meet me in the Great Hall at 6 AM for detention,” Filch says, with a smirk, as Shaw clenches her jaw so hard Root fears she might break a tooth. He’s clearly enjoying himself. “Oh yes… if you like being up at this hour, you won’t mind being up at dawn to help me do some work… in the Forbidden Forest.”

Root sighs and moves away from Shaw, who looks like she’s about to strangle the smugness out of Filch’s expression.

“Is that all?” she scowls, the tension palpable. “Can we go now?”

“You can go, but that’s not all…” Root really dislikes the way the man drags most of his sentences, as if there’s some mystifying suspense to his existence. There isn’t. He’s just mean and useless. “I’ll be taking fifty points from Hufflepuff and fifty points from Slytherin.”

“Uh oh,” Root whimpers. She couldn’t care less about House points and the House Cup but she knows Shaw does.

She is going to be in _so_ much trouble with Shaw over this.

“ _What?!_ ” Shaw snarls, getting in the man’s personal space before Root stands in her way as a pacifying gesture.

“I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh? Hard work and pain are the best teachers, if you ask me…”

“Nobody asked you anything,” Root mutters under her breath, low enough only Shaw can hear her.

“Right, off you go,” Filch says, pointing down the hallway. “And don't think of running off to stay up together, now. It'll be worse for you if you do.”

Shaw is still glaring at Filch like he’s her personal nemesis and Root grabs her arm to drag her away. Shaw pulls herself free from her grip as soon as they’re out of Filch’s field of vision and glares at Root before stomping in the direction of the Hufflepuff Basement. Root follows after her meekly since she has to go through the same corridor to reach the Slytherin Dungeon.

They halt in front of the stack of barrels that lead to the Hufflepuff quarters and Root opens her mouth to say something but Shaw interrupts her, “Don’t.” She points a finger at Root’s nose and Root isn’t entirely sure if she won’t poke her in the eyes. “I’m mad at you.”

Root sighs, tries not to wonder about the uncharacteristic nervousness fluttering inside her chest.

“I’m sorry about the House points,” she breathes out in a rush, afraid Shaw won’t give her time to speak.

“Here are your stupid phones.” Shaw drops them unceremoniously in her hands and starts tapping a rhythm on the second barrel from the bottom until the entrance to the Basement is revealed. “I’ll see you at 6.”

“Shaw –“

“No, stop.” Shaw shakes her head and Root recognizes the signs, sees the anger bubbling and the frustration seething. “If you keep being this reckless, you’re gonna get yourself caught.”

“Aww, Sameen,” Root coos, smiling despite herself. That was her opening to push her luck a little bit further. “You’re worried about me?”

“I’m worried about the mission,” Shaw snarls with an eye-roll and turns to enter the Basement without another word.

Root feels her smile reaching her eyes, and her nervousness fades away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright y'all, here's some tech history facts:
> 
> \- the first iPhone came out in 2007 but the App Store was only released in July 10 2008, so _after_ the events in this chapter; whatsapp came out in 2009 and iMessage in 2011 - this is why Daizo is sending MMS, something no one ever does anymore. this also means that technically, those funny message graphs i made are inaccurate, but i saw the opportunity and i took it  
>  \- the Blackberry Bold 9000 came out in May 2008, and this chapter is set in March-April; let's all just pretend Root is such a kickass underground criminal that she gets smartphones before their release date, mmkay?
> 
> note to self: never set a story before the golden days of technology ever again
> 
> oh oh, and some HP trivia:
> 
> \- the potion Root and Carter are trying to make is an actual potion seventh grade students have to learn at Hogwarts (i followed the recipe!)  
> \- I pretty much played around with Filch's interaction with Harry/Ron/Hermione when he caught them breaking curfew and applied it to Root and Shaw; the punishment is the exact same :)
> 
> let me know what you guys think of the chapter <3


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